Uncharted Alliance
by Blackdeer7
Summary: Forcibly pulled into the Star Trek universe, Shepard and Liara find themselves at odds with Voyager's crew and an enemy from their own galaxy. There will be action, adventure, maybe even a little bit of romance tossed in with all of the dry wit the captains from these two very different universes can muster.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

I love Mass Effect and Star Trek, but I'm not a theoretical engineer or physicist, nor would I consider myself a hardcore Trekkie. That said, I did my best to stay within the science of these universes and also their individual timelines. This story takes place sometime during the early part of Season 7 of the Star Trek Voyager series and a few years after the Reaper War (after Mass Effect 3), obviously under the premise that Shepard survived.

If you are a fan of one universe, but aren't as familiar with the other and come run across a term or idea that is difficult to piece together or if something just seems unfamiliar, PM me and I'll fill you in on the details. Also keep in mind, this is my first time writing for the Star Trek Voyager universe, so if characters seem OOC, I am to blame as I am still attempting to wrangle their personalities and mannerisms.

Just to clarify, for those who have read my previous ME works, this is not Lakota Shepard adventure. This is a different Shepard with a different look, history and attitude. 'Nuff said.

A special thanks goes out to Lyaksandra, my beta reader. She is a keen sounding board for my ideas, both crazy and sane, and is an invaluable asset in my war on grammar.

I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

Chapter 1

 _Delta Quadrant 0610  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Captain's Quarters]_

Captain Kathryn Janeway splashed cold water on her face, then looked into the mirror that hung above the bathroom sink. Sighing heavily, she watched as the cool liquid fell silently from her chin in tear shaped droplets just before her eyes came to rest on the reflection staring back at her. The shoulder length auburn hair, strong chin, high cheekbones, softly angled nose and lips that quirked into a lopsided grin when amused. A classic beauty is how people had described her. Elegant and refined. She may have looked younger than her forty-three years, but right now the haunted image returning her stare was far from elegant and much closer to exhausted.

She released another sigh, letting her chin fall towards her chest, unable to hold the gaze of the stormy grey-blue eyes peering back at her. They knew too much and had seen far too many tragedies in their time.

Seven years spent in the Delta Quadrant, traversing uncharted space with no support from the Federation and only their wits and her guidance to keep them from harm, which was difficult to avoid even on the best of days. A single ship carrying one hundred and forty-five lives that were relying on her to see them through this journey in the quickest and safest way possible. After all, she was the Captain. She was responsible, both for stranding them here, and for getting them home.

She took a deep breath, shrugging off her weary melancholy, knowing the extra heaviness it carried this morning stemmed from waking up earlier than usual as much as from the tedious, week long negotiations with the Tarians. The weariness could be cured with a strong cup of coffee and sharing breakfast with good company, which was the very reason she had gotten up at this godforsaken hour. If she ever needed proof that she was a night owl instead of an early bird, all she had to do was look in the mirror again and see the dark circles underneath her eyes.

As for the melancholy, it would be soothed once the day was over and they acquired their payment of dilithium for services rendered. Then, they could leave this area of space behind. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but privately she would breathe a sigh of relief when they were done with the Tarians. Dealing with the arrogance of their leaders and somewhat less than sincere platitudes over the last few days had taken a toll on her diplomatic moxie. If Voyager's stock of dilithium, the element needed to safely control the matter/antimatter the ship's warp core, hadn't been so low, she may have avoided bartering with them at all.

Shelving any further brooding, Janeway striped off her night clothes, tossed them in the recycling bin, and then stepped into the sonic shower. If Voyager could survive multiple encounters with a morally depraved organ harvesting species, a headache inducing number of temporal incursions, and the wrath of the Borg Queen, then she could get through a cargo transport and one more diplomatic session with the Tarians.

Right now though, she had fifteen minutes before meeting her breakfast companion in the mess hall.

…(/\\)…

 _Milky Way – Kites Nest Cluster – Indris System 1110  
Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype_

Shepard sighed dramatically as she flopped down in the shuttle's Aft station chair. She tried to contort herself into a comfortable position and with each awkward movement her short-cropped red hair became more disheveled than its normal carefree style. Finally, after realizing the futility of her endeavor, she sighed dramatically again.

"Are you done yet?" She had tried to keep the whininess from her tone but failed utterly. "I'm bored!"

Dr. Liara T'Soni's fingertips danced across the pilot's control panel, deftly entering long strings of computations without pause. Although clearly focused on her task, a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I still do not understand why Admiral Hackett asked _you_ to conduct this test. Lieutenant-Commander Cortez is more qualified. He is, after all, a certified shuttle pilot."

"Well, Liara, maybe Hackett's trying to broaden my horizons. You know, to make sure I'm happy in my current profession."

"Shepard, you are a former Admiral of the Alliance Navy and a current member of the Citadel Council's elite special tasks group. You have been in some branch of military service for the better part of twenty years. I highly doubt you are having second thoughts about your choice of career now."

"It could happen."

"I'm sure it could, dear, but that is about as likely as Aria returning to her former glory as a pole dancer."

"Well, Spectre or not, nobody is ever a _former_ anything in the Alliance."

Swiveling her chair around to look directly at the human in the rear of the shuttle, Liara asked, "Is that why you agreed to Hackett's request?"

The scientist was dressed in a form-fitting white jumpsuit that was highlighted with royal blue piping running down the sides. The simple outfit was both efficient, and to Shepard's eye quite captivating, especially in the way it drew attention to the Asari's smooth azure-hued skin and shapely frame. Combined with her natural grace and poise, Liara looked positively stunning.

Shaking the illicit thoughts from her head, Shepard concentrated on the question that had been asked. "It was a personal favor."

"Why did he ask for you specifically?"

"What? You don't think I'm qualified?"

"Shepard," Liara said, her voice betraying a subtle exasperation, "just answer the question."

"It's only as a precaution. Anyone can oversee this test, but if things go south, I'm uniquely qualified to make sure the shuttle's software doesn't get into the wrong hands."

"Because you're a Spectre?"

Shepard grinned impishly. "Because I'm a badass."

Rolling her eyes, the scientist swiveled around in her chair again, returning her focus to the pilot's control console. Although her back was to the human, she said, "It's been so long, I'm afraid I've forgotten what your ass looks like, Spectre."

"Liara T'Soni!" Shepard scoffed playfully as she stood and crossed the distance to the Asari's chair. "Watch your language! What would your bondmate say?!"

Tilting her head to catch the Spectre in her periphery, Liara's gaze slipped down the human's frame in unabashed appraisal. "I would be interested to know," she countered. "What _do_ you have to say?"

Since their early days together, she had always felt that the Alliance uniform was a good look for the human. Confident. Sexy. Composed. It was in the surprisingly flattering way the navy blue pants outlined the shape of her hips and well-toned thighs, which not only emphasized her femininity but the strength beneath the fabric as well. Even the uniform top's crisp, clean lines hinted at an athletic frame, allowing her imagination to fill in the blanks as to what lay hidden beneath. To her secret delight, even after years of companionship, the mere sight of Shepard in her uniform made her mouth water as sensual images taken from intimate memory spiraled through her thoughts.

The scientist's face remained impassive, though, revealing nothing of her lascivious admiration. Multitasking was one of her specialties.

Shepard placed her right hand on the back of the chair and gently encouraged Liara to spin back around so they were looking directly in each other's eyes. Then, without breaking eye contact, she placed both of her hands on the arms of the chair, leaning forward so their faces were inches apart. "I say you're right, it has been far too long since you've seen my ass."

Not waiting for a pithy reply, she placed a sweet, lazy kiss on the Asari's mouth, one that was both comforting and mesmerizing. Eventually, the tender kiss ended, but instead of pulling away, she leaned her head forward until their foreheads brushed together.

Sighing contentedly, Shepard said, "Three weeks is unacceptable."

Closing her eyes, Liara breathed in deeply, relishing the close proximity of her lover while both of her hands reached up, framing the human's face between her fingers. "I concur," she whispered. She had long ago memorized the shape and contour of Shepard's face but was no less spellbound by its beauty than the day she had had her first glimpse. Smiling at the recollection, her left hand drifted lower so her fingertips lightly brushed along her lover's neck. With each stroke, she noted both the heat radiating from the soft, supple skin and the strong and steady pulse beneath the surface.

They stayed in this serene pose for a few moments, resting their foreheads together, basking in the unexpected moment of being alone together. Over the last six months, their schedules had been unprecedentedly busy. So much so that rarely had they been allotted time by themselves, but even rarer still were those occasions when no outward demands tugged at either of them.

Then, suddenly, Liara's fingers captured the back of Shepard's head, weaving within strands of short red hair, roughly pressing their mouths back together in a hot, demanding kiss. Shepard returned the Asari's fiery intensity, feeling somewhat faint as a surge of raw need and longing unexpectedly thundered to the surface.

Before she lost control of all her faculties, Shepard reluctantly pulled her lips away and placed her right forefinger on her lover's pursuing mouth. Hoping to clear her heady fervor, she took a deep, grounding breath and shakily exhaled. "You are dangerous."

"And you love it," the Asari parried, her deep blue eyes sparkling in mischief.

Her head still spinning with desire, Shepard took a step back, straightened her posture and nodded. "I do. And you. Definitively. Which is why I asked you to join me today."

"Oh," Liara said, smiling coyly. "You mean you're not just going to be my eye candy? Someone I can leer at while you run tests?"

Shepard returned the smile. "I won't be running any tests. The scientists and engineers back on the Normandy are running the tests. You and I just have to hang out in the shuttle, idling in the middle of this gas nebula until they're all done."

Her eyes wide in excitement, Liara's demeanor quickly shifted to work mode. "If successful, this will be a catalyst for significant advancement in broadening the limits and resilience of current cloaking technology. From everything I've read, the software being tested could feasibly be compatible with any FTL drive."

Shepard blinked. "I should've known that you would already know about the software's _highly classified_ purpose and significance of the supposedly super-secret test."

"Yes, you should have."

"And now I know why Hackett made no fuss about you joining me."

"That is a reasonable assumption."

Her eyes narrowing warily, Shepard stepped forward, once again placing both of her hands on the arms of the pilot's chair. Then, she braced her weight as her legs carefully straddled Liara's, effectively sitting in the Asari's lap. "Does anything escape your intel network?" she asked playfully.

Liara's eyebrow rose challengingly. "No," she said as her arms wrapped around the Spectre's waist. "Nothing. Perhaps in a few years, when you're older and wiser, you'll finally accept it."

Pursing her lips, Shepard retorted, " _This_ from a woman who is one-hundred and fourteen years old."

"Soon to be one-hundred and fifteen."

"You're still angling for a good birthday present, aren't you?"

"Good ideas are not adopted automatically, Spectre," Liara said as she patted her lover's thigh consolingly. "They must be driven into memory with great patience."

Shepard chuckled. "And you have both perseverance and longevity on your side."

Smirking, the Asari quipped, "Yes, I do."

Nimbly capturing Liara's hand in her own, the Spectre turned it over, placing a quick, doting kiss on the palm. "So, how will your network survive in your absence?"

"Ms. Lawson and Garrus are quite capable of, as you humans say, holding down the fort."

"Excellent. Do you think I could persuade you to take a few extra days off then?"

"With the right motivation, your chances for success are high."

"Motivation, eh?"

"Yes. Provided, of course, that nothing goes wrong."

"Wrong?" Shepard said jovially. "What could possibly go wrong?"

…(/\\)…

 _Delta Quadrant 0650  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Mess Hall]_

Captain Janeway, who was drinking her second but no less coveted cup of coffee, sat at a two-person table across from Seven of Nine, enjoying their weekly breakfast date. As they talked, Janeway picked at her oatmeal but seemed to find the dark brew in her hands more palatable, while Seven casually sipped from the glass containing her nutritional supplement. The former Borg drone thought most foods were an indulgence and preferred the precise calculated nutritional intake met by the fabricated beverage.

Over the rim of her mug, Janeway glanced surreptitiously at Seven, who looked like the epitome of an Amazonian female warrior of legend, her athleticism and prowess matched, if not surpassed, by her brilliant mind and natural beauty. Piercing blue eyes, fair skin and the way that no single hair of the blonde's characteristic updo was out of place, created an image of an exquisite, yet imposing goddess of a woman. Statuesque and regal. Desirable, but unattainable.

Janeway allowed the glance to stretch a little, and she found herself analyzing, for the thousandth time, the graceful beauty that was Seven of Nine. No matter how much she tried to deny it, or justify her thoughts as just some honorable, innocent appreciation of another crew member, she knew in her heart that what she felt for Seven was absolutely _nothing_ that Star Fleet would ever condone from a Star Ship Captain. But as long as the thoughts and feelings stayed in her head... _or heart_... and did not transfer themselves to actual behavior, then she was staying within the non-fraternization policy of her employer.

Or so she kept telling herself.

"A curious proposition," Seven said, replying to a comment made by Janeway a few seconds earlier.

Her focus sharply brought back to their present conversation, Janeway pursed her lips, then took a sip from her cup. "To say the least." The bitter brew landed hotly, a galvanizing force, in her stomach.

Arching her optical implant, Seven asked, "How do you wish to proceed?"

After being severed from the Borg collective roughly four years prior, most of her implants had been removed, but a few vital ones had to remain. As for the form-fitting, plum biosuit, she wore that because the design was efficient and the material adaptive, two familiar and satisfactory adjectives for the ex-drone.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Janeway said. "On the surface, all the data the Tarians have provided has been accurate and their request seems sincere."

Seven tilted her head slightly, contemplating the older woman's words for a moment. "But you remain uncertain of their motives."

Janeway nodded as a subtle grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was both pleased and somewhat disconcerted that Seven knew her moods so well. "My gut tells me there is something I'm missing, but I can't see it."

"Your instincts have proven to be uncommonly accurate."

After a moment of gazing into the black depths of her cup as though looking for answers, Janeway looked up and found herself swallowed into icy blue eyes. There was an unquantifiable intensity in that gaze, and an indisputable affection both of which created a slow, pleasant burn in the pit of her stomach.

"What's your opinion?" she asked, silently cursing how husky her voice sounded.

"They are offering us the dilithium we require. A single use of our cargo transporter is the payment they require. The solution is obvious."

Janeway sighed. That _obvious_ solution was one of the reasons for her doubts. "Yes, but this isn't a puzzle, Seven. There is no solution. What's at issue here is whether or not we can trust the Tarians."

Seven frowned. "The issue is Voyager's survival."

"That is another very valid issue," Janeway admitted. "And I suppose with nothing else to go on, it's the only one we should keep in our sights."

"Indeed."

"Do me a favor, though…"

"You want me to go over the data once again."

Janeway grinned, the mirth reaching her eyes. "You know me too well, Seven."

"Perhaps."

Seven's smile was barely perceptible, but Janeway was quite attuned to the former Borg's subtle mannerisms, and found herself warmed by the expression.

"Besides," she said, "it's a simple cargo transport. What could possibly go wrong?"

…(/\\)…

 _Milky Way – Kites Nest Cluster – Indris System 1300  
Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype_

"The Normandy is ready to begin testing," Liara said, "they are just waiting for the stealth drive to come online."

"What's the shuttle's status?" Shepard asked as she finished securing the last piece of her body armor.

The charcoal grey combat hard-suit, highlighted with dark blue around her joints and down the length of her right arm, implemented a quadruple layer of protection: shields, barrier, armor and a combat/self-repair software suite. The customized, one-of-a-kind armor was a birthday gift designed and built by her friend, Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Tescla, Quarian ambassador to the Geth and mechanical genius.

Liara spun around in her chair, watching the Spectre double-check her armor's environmental seals. "All systems are normal. We're just idling in the nebula waiting for you to finish getting dressed."

"Hey, it takes time to look this good."

"Honestly, you're as bad as Tali."

"Please. She's a bit of a diva when it comes to her armor."

"And you're not?" Liara scoffed. "What about all of the extra upgrades and software suites?"

"That's not being a diva, that's being a tech nerd."

"Apparently, being a tech nerd requires as much primping as a diva."

Shepard glared at the Asari, the amusement in her eyes negating any implied irritation. "Just because it only takes you five minutes to put on your armor doesn't mean you get to call me a diva."

"Yes, it does."

"I just like to be prepared!" Shepard retorted.

"Of course, dear."

"You're placating me."

"Yes, dear."

"Fine." Shepard sat down in the co-pilots chair. She huffed in feigned irritation, then asked, "So… you ready?"

Liara quickly ran through the ship's systems for the fourth time, then nodded. "Yes."

Flashing Liara an award winning smile, Shepard keyed in a few commands and activated the stealth drive. "Then let's get this show on the road."

…(/\\)…

 _Delta Quadrant 0800  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Bridge]_

"Report." Captain Kathryn Janeway settled back into her command chair, then brought the mug of coffee to her lips and took a sip.

"The Tarian scientists arrived and set up their equipment in cargo bay one," Chakotay replied. "They brought a few more personnel then we expected, but Tuvok added an extra security detail to escort them. Now we're just waiting for our science team to complete their checklists and for Seven to confirm the cargo bay's readiness."

Janeway turned her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow toward her first officer, who was seated on her left side. As usual, her gaze was immediately drawn to the facial tattoo the man had on his forehead just above his left eye. A symbol of his Native American heritage.

Chakotay chuckled. "Apparently, it's more efficient to monitor the transport in the cargo bay than Astrometrics."

An amused grin tugged at the corner of Janeway's mouth. "Efficiency and effectiveness go hand in hand."

Chakotay's broad smile showed off deep dimples as he watched his captain savor another sip of her dark beverage.

Eyes sparkling in amusement, he said, "Also, the Tarian ships have assumed a tactical formation and have released the dust into the nebula."

Janeway nodded. "Bridge to Transporter room. Status."

 _[Transporter room]_

Ensign Harry Kim stood at the control panel, waiting for command to start the transport. "All set here, Captain. Pattern cohesion in the nebula looks stable."

 _[Cargo Bay One]_

" _Cargo Bay One, Report."_

Coolly, Seven accessed the room of stoic Tarians and eager Voyager scientists one final time. "The bay is clear, Captain. We are ready to begin."

 _[Bridge]_

Janeway straightened her posture, looking forward at the multicolored nebula on the main viewscreen. She thought back to the conversation she shared with Seven over breakfast, then took a deep breath and pushed her unsubstantiated concerns to the side.

"Well, then, let's get this show on the road." She placed her now empty mug in a mini-recycling bin between the command chairs. "Ensign Kim… Engage."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:  
**

A great many thanks goes out to those who have taken the time to check this story out and also to those who have made their interest known. Thank you! Also, I am traveling next week, so the next update to the story will be posted upon my return.

* * *

Chapter 2

 _Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype_

Shepard rolled onto her hands and knees, her eyes burning from the smoke rapidly filling the shuttle. Reaching out with her left hand, she deftly entered commands into the console to vent the smoke from the main cabin while her right hand wiped away the blood streaming into her eye, blurring her vision. There had been no time to think, to wonder how everything how gone to hell so quickly. One moment they were idling in the nebula just after activating the new cloaking technology, the next, the shuttle's alarms were blaring as power to primary systems overloaded their circuitry in a spectacular light show of arcing power couplers and exploding capacitors. The ship's automated extinguishing system quelled most of the electrical fires, but a residual chemical smoke remained in the air, obscuring visibility and making it difficult to breathe.

When the initial alarms sounded out, the ship had unexpectedly pitched sideways, throwing Shepard, who hadn't been belted in, out of her chair. Her head had collided with the edge of the console, resulting in a livid gash above her right eye. In contrast, Liara, who had followed protocol and was secured in her chair, had remained seated when the ship lurched. As soon as the alarm sounded, she immediately shut down the cloaking technology and began rerouting power back to the primary systems, her main concern being the shuttle's life-support system.

"Status," Shepard barked, wincing as she tried to stave off the blood flowing into her eye.

Liara glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her lover as she struggled to stand. "Navigation is down. Sensors are down. Communications and weapons are offline. Life support is barely holding at twenty percent."

"Do you have any good news?"

"That is the good news."

Shepard shook her head, instantly regretting the action as pain from her wound seemed to make her skull implode. "Brilliant. So what the hell is the _bad_ news?"

"There is no clear indication of what happened to the shuttle's systems."

"That's easy. The cloaking technology is a bust."

"No," Liara countered, her fingers rapidly flying across the console as she continued shutting down non-essential systems in order to re-route power. "From what I could tell, it worked properly. It was not the cause of the damage we sustained."

Now standing, Shepard turned toward the Asari, a questioning look in her eyes. "Then what was?"

Liara stopped keying in commands mid-stroke, swiveling her chair slightly so her gaze caught her lover's. "Just after we activated the cloak, some outside energy penetrated the shuttle, disrupting its systems."

"Outside energy," Shepard muttered, as she walked to the rear of the shuttle, opened a small compartment and pulled out a med kit.

"I suspect that means trouble is coming," Liara said before returning her focus to the command console.

Shepard, her voice ominously low, grumbled, "Tell me something I don't know."

"I am currently attempting to reroute power to navigation and communications."

While chuckling softly at the Asari's deadpan humor, Shepard used the small mirror on the underside of the med kit lid to examine her forehead. Then, with an efficiency born from necessity and practice, she cleaned the gash above her eye and applied a layer of medigel over the wound. Once she was satisfied that the bleeding had been stopped, she returned the med kit to its compartment, turned around, and with the smoke in the cabin finally cleared, got her first look out of the shuttle's now active viewscreen. "Liara…forget the shuttle's systems and gear up."

"What…?" The question died on the Asari's lips as she, too, got her first look at the viewscreen. "Oh…"

"Yep," Shepard growled while holstering the pistol she grabbed from the weapons locker. "Looks like trouble has already found us."

…(/\\)…

 _USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Cargo Bay One]_

Seven watched as a shuttle with an unfamiliar shape and designation materialized in Voyager's cargo bay. This was expected. The Tarians had brokered a deal with Captain Janeway, a payment of dilithium crystals for assisting with the recovery of one of their shuttles that had been marooned inside the volatile gas nebula. But, two humanoid figures stepping out of the shuttle, neither resembling a Tarian… that was _not_ expected.

The Tarians Seven had seen were stocky, bipedal humanoids with individuals showcasing several variations of skin tones, dark brown and greenish appearing to be the most common. Their unique, and therefore distinctive characteristic, was the fact that they had four eyes which, from her base of knowledge, was an uncommon trait among other species. One pair was set wide in prominent bony sockets protruding from the corners of their face. The second set of eyes was smaller and closer together, set higher on the face, just beneath the middle of the forehead. The eyes were uniformly dark orbs, with no discernible irises or pupils.

Neither individual exiting the shuttle resembled that description.

Although unarmed, both figures wore body armor, and as they warily scanned the cargo bay, it was obvious that they expected trouble. One appeared to be a human female, but the other was unfamiliar to Seven, which was yet another unexpected detail. With her eidetic memory and past connection to the Borg collective, Seven had a vast knowledge of species in the Delta Quadrant and beyond. To encounter two unknown species within the same week, the Tarians and the new figure that emerged from the shuttle, was an unusual coincidence, and since she didn't believe in coincidences, it was also somewhat unsettling.

Before Seven could make an introduction to the newcomers, one of the Tarian scientists stepped close and she felt a sharp blade at her throat. She quickly assessed the situation and realized that each of the nine Tarian scientists were now armed with a handheld bladed weapon and had secured the Voyager personnel. With the blade pressing into her skin, she watched as Ensign Vone from the security team attempted to knock the weapon from his captor's hand, only to have the Tarian dodge the blow, wrap him in a headlock and then snap his neck with callous ease. The display worked as intended, no one else from the Voyager crew attempted escape.

The coup had been brutally quick, decisive and without a doubt, premeditated.

"Well, now… this is a surprise." The Tarian who snapped Vone's neck stepped over the lifeless body and addressed the two figures that had emerged from the shuttle. "Commander Shepard…"

Seemingly unfazed by the oddity of events, the human female replied coolly, "It's Admiral now."

"Admiral… of course. I should have expected that your precious Alliance would promote one so proficient at genocide."

The muscles in the human's jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth together tightly. "Who are you?"

"Who I am is not important."

"At least on that we agree," the human sneered.

"Oh, _Admiral_ … petty ridicule?" The Tarian walked toward the red-head, his demeanor resembling a predator stalking prey. "I expected more from the _Great_ … _Alliance_ … _War hero_." The last words were spat more than spoken.

As the Tarian drew closer, the blue-hued humanoid stepped next to the one called Shepard, in a protective flanking position, one that implied previous combat experience. "And what about your friends?" she demanded. "What did they expect?"

The Tarian glanced at the Voyager crew being detained by his peers, then returned his gaze to the feminine alien, smiling arrogantly. "They are not my friends. They are just a means to an end."

"What do you want then?" the human asked. There was a brittle, caustic quality to her tone.

"I already have what I want… the shuttle behind you." The Tarian cocked his head to the side. "But I'll also take the pistol that is behind your back."

Although she made no move, a cold ruthlessness brewed within the human's green eyes. She may have stood six inches shorter than the Tarian, but her menacing presence somehow dwarfed his by leagues.

Seven watched the Tarian and human glare at each other, assessing each other's strengths and weaknesses, letting the charged moment stretch between them as though waiting to see who would be the first to break the silence. The longer they stared at each other saying nothing, the more dangerous the moment felt. When the fingers digging into her shoulder tightened their grip and the blade at her neck pressed a little deeper, she knew she wasn't the only one who sensed the mounting tension.

The Tarian was the one who cracked first. "If you want any chance of surviving this encounter, you'll hand over your weapon… _now_!"

A hint of a smile curled at the corner of the human's lips as she reached behind her back, pulled the pistol from its holster and offered it to the Tarian.

He immediately leveled the weapon's barrel at her face.

"I wish more of my people were here as witnesses," he snarled. "Your death will bring _great_ joy to Batarians everywhere!"

His gloating laughter echoed throughout the cargo bay as he pulled the trigger.

…(/\\)…

The room exploded in harsh, bright light and a deafening sound followed immediately by pungent grey smoke saturating the air.

In the midst of the sensory assault Seven's captor flinched, as did she, but his grip on her shoulder, and the blade at her neck remained. Her normal eye was blinded by the sudden flash, but her Borg enhanced implant quickly adjusted allowing her to witness the chain of events that followed.

The unexpected percussion of sound and light, similar to a flash-bang grenade, had centered on the human's pistol that was still in the Tarian's, or rather Batarian's, hand. Apparently, their ambassadors lied to the Captain about their species' true name and true intentions. Through the smoke rolling through the room, she could see that the Voyager crew and the Tarians detaining them were stunned from the attack on their senses. No one had moved to run or escape and some had even lost their footing, falling to their knees.

Not everyone was affected though. The new arrivals, Shepard and her alien companion, were clearly prepared for the weapon's bombardment and the chaos that ensued.

Shepard sprang into action by attacking the Tarian in front of her, taking advantage of his disorientation and landing a brutal side-stomping kick to his knee. An audible pop sounded out, and just as he hollered in pain, the stiffened fingers of her right hand ruthlessly jabbed him in the throat, silencing any other sound except gurgling. As his legs collapsed beneath him, she side-stepped and crushed her knee into his face, knocking him prone on his back. Then, in a blur of movement, she knelt on his chest, firmly grasped his head with both hands, and violently slammed it onto the ground twice. She glared at him for a split second, as though making sure he wouldn't move again, then grabbed her pistol from his lifeless hand and stood.

Simultaneously, the blue-skinned alien stepped forward with fiery strands of violet energy coiled around her right arm, and when she swung that arm in a wide arc in front of her, a wave of energy cascaded out, toppling over everything in its path. The Voyager crew and Tarians were knocked off of their feet, the force of the energy sending them gliding across the floor, scattered in random directions.

A Tarian in the opposite area of the cargo bay, who had avoided the brunt of the flash-bang blast, charged towards the energy wielding alien. Just before he was about to overtake her, she turned, dark blue streaks now swirling around her body at impossible speeds, creating a sphere-like protective shell. She raised her right arm, clenched her hand into the shape of a fist and the Tarian, as though struck by an invisible hammer, was thrown backward through the air, slamming forcefully against the shuttle which was five meters away. He slid down the outer hull then fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The moment he was catapulted through the air, Seven felt the sudden shift in the air around her and an unaccounted heaviness that pulled down on her body, as though artificial gravity aboard Voyager had increased dramatically. She also noticed a subtle visual distortion surrounding the alien each time her energy weapon was unleashed and it followed the blue-violet waves as they swept along floor or were projected through the air.

Although she didn't recognize the weapon, the Tarian holding her captive evidently had, because when initially released, even in his disoriented state, he cursed underneath his breath and took an involuntary step back. Capitalizing on his distraction, Seven stepped backward with him, bending slightly at the waist while simultaneously grabbing his forearm, the one holding the blade, with both hands and pulling down hard, keeping the sharp edge away from her neck. The move caused the Tarian to be slightly off-balance allowing her to nimbly duck underneath his arm, and while still maintaining her hold, take a step to the side, jerking the appendage out at an awkward angle.

The Tarian grunted in pain, dropping the blade to the ground before being able to use his greater strength and mass to dislodge his arm from Seven's grasp. Not wasting any time, he retaliated by launching himself at her. She blocked his left hook with her right forearm, then his right punch to the face with her left forearm.

From the wildness of his attacks, she could tell he was still dazed and she took advantage of that weakness, knowing she had him if she was quick.

He came after her with a left jab which she sidestepped and then a right, which she ducked underneath. She feigned a straight left to his face. He brought his right arm across to block it and she leapt up in order to loop a big left hook over the block and nailed him solidly on the right cheekbone. He staggered, which was encouraging, but he did not go down.

Her right side was exposed and he hammered a solid left hook into her ribs, but because of her Borg enhancements, she barely felt the strike. She turned with the punch so she was at his flank and came around with her right elbow, hitting him solidly in the temple. He staggered again and exhaled in a kind of snort, but he still did not go down. She followed the right elbow with a left forearm, then a left back fist and finished with a right cross.

He had been too far gone to slip by her last punch and it caught him square on the cheek. The force of the impact made him take another step backward and then his legs gave out. Suddenly, he was on the floor—sitting on his bent legs, his four eyes half-lidded and unfocused.

Intending to render him unconscious, Seven stepped forward for the final strike, but just as she braced her body to deliver a front facing kick to his chest, a sharp popping noise sounded out from behind her. Then, the Tarian fell to the ground, landing roughly on his side as blood streamed out of the hole in his head, pooling on the floor beneath him.

Seven spun around just in time to witness the one called Shepard calmly firing six more lethal shots from the pistol in her hand, each one finding its mark in a Tarian, leaving a lifeless corpse in its wake. While the use of a projectile weapon was notable, Seven was more interested in the choice of victim. The Tarians were intermingled with the Voyager crew, in some cases inches apart, so singling them out did not seem like a fluke or mistake. It seemed purposeful. It seemed like execution.

The shocked Voyager crew, still recovering from being hurled across the room and seeing the Tarians gunned down, were held at bay by the alien, who said nothing, letting the energy swirling around her body speak for itself.

The sound of footsteps brought Seven's attention back to the human who was approaching at a slow, methodical pace, pointing the pistol directly at her. When she was within two meters of Seven, she stopped.

"Batarians aren't known for their intelligence." Shepard flashed a humorless smile. "Biometric security embedded in the handle. Creates quite the bang when an unauthorized person tries to use it."

Seven met the human's pitiless, unflinching gaze. "Effective."

"You recovered quickly enough, though," Shepard said, her eyes glancing briefly at the Tarian lying at Seven's feet. "So tell me, where are we?"

"You are aboard the Federation Starship Voyager."

"I haven't heard of the Federation."

"That is not surprising in this quadrant of space."

Shepard frowned, her annoyance barely contained. "Okay then… Who _are_ you?"

"My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One." Seven clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her posture, a defiant gleam in her icy blue eyes. "Who are _you_?"

"My name is Shepard. I'm an Admiral in the Alliance Navy and a Citadel Council Spectre."

"I am not familiar with the Alliance Navy or the Citadel Council."

"That's not surprising in this quadrant of space," Shepard said, sarcastically throwing Seven's own words back at her.

Seven tilted her head, her expression a portrait of cool disinterest even as she arched the ocular implant over her left eye.

The two women stared at each other, saying nothing, doing nothing. Neither offering any chink in their stoic exterior, neither giving any ground. With the pistol still between them, a thick, uncomfortable silence permeated the air, growing exponentially as the seconds slowly ticked by.

The Voyager crew watched the scene unfold, feeling more and more helpless as one second bled into another, fearing that any movement would trigger a disastrous outcome.

Finally, Shepard moved, breaking the tension as she adjusted her grip on the pistol's handle, her eyes narrowing in irritation.

"Well," she growled, "now that we're such good friends, tell me why I shouldn't kill you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:  
**  
A big thanks goes out to all those who have fav'd, alerted and/or reviewed this story! Your interest is motivational! :)

* * *

Chapter 3

The Bridge crew monitored the progress of the transport on the main viewscreen, watching the shuttle materialize and the two unexpected visitors exit the ship. As soon as the Tarians had taken the Voyager crew hostage, Captain Janeway was on her feet asking for options. A small residue of the space dust the Tarian scientists used during the operation lingered within the cargo bay interfering with their targeting scanners which nullified their ability to use the transporters. The scanners could be reconfigured, but Janeway's intuition told her there wouldn't be enough time.

She had Voyager hail the Tarian High Command who appeared to be genuinely shocked but could offer no more than reassurances that they were not involved in the events transpiring on her ship. While she believed their claim, the days spent in diplomatic negotiations had given her a gauge of the Tarian's personalities and she suspected they were not telling her the whole truth.

Within seconds of witnessing the flash bang explosion, she gave command of the Bridge to Chakotay and was in the turbo lift with Tuvok, her Chief of Security, heading toward deck eight where they met up with a security crew outside of Cargo Bay One. As the doors opened, her blood ran cold at the scene before her. Every Tarian laying on the floor, lifeless, her crew held at bay by the blue-skinned alien wielding an unknown energy weapon and the human woman who had stepped out of the shuttle pointing a pistol directly at Seven's head.

"… _tell me why I shouldn't kill you_."

"Because she didn't bring you here," Janeway declared, striding confidently into the cargo bay with Tuvok and the security team flanking her. She wanted to get the woman's attention on her and away from Seven, and do it without any more bloodshed.

As soon as the unfamiliar voice sounded out from behind, Shepard quickly stepped to the side facing the new threat, but never letting the barrel of her pistol waver from the blonde's head. "And who the hell are you?"

Forcibly reining in her concern, Janeway focused her attention on the wildcard in the room, the woman holding the pistol. "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation. You are on my ship."

With battle-honed precision Shepard assessed the unarmed woman and her armed companions, some of which were species she never seen before in Council space. "So you're the one who hijacked my shuttle!" she said accusingly. Right now she didn't give a damn about where they originated, she just wanted to get the hell off of this ship with Liara and back onto an Alliance vessel.

"Yes, but it wasn't a hijacking," Janeway said, keeping her tone neutral and non-combative. "Bringing you here was an accident."

"Don't lie!" Shepard snapped. "This was _not_ an accident!"

Years of experience in Starfleet and then the Delta Quadrant had given Janeway an almost innate instinct for recognizing when a still body was actually dead. Glancing down at the lifeless form lying at Seven's feet, she was grimly reminded that the only way to save her crew was to defuse the unpredictably volatile situation as quickly as possible. "I assure you that our part in bringing you here was accidental."

"Your assurances mean nothing. We are still here against our will."

"And we would like to correct that," Janeway replied, "but first I need you to put your weapon away."

Shepard glanced at the five figures surrounding their Captain, each pointing a small pistol-like weapon at her or Liara. "With your attack dogs so eagerly waiting to shoot us?" she spat, her tone harsh with barely suppressed rage. "I think not."

"Hasn't there been enough bloodshed already?" Janeway responded casually, clearly not fazed by the woman's attitude. Then she raised her right hand, making a vague gesture, and the security detail holstered their phasers.

"Now please, I'd like to continue this conversation, but you'll need to put your weapon away." Unlike her earlier request, this time Janeway's voice was more forceful.

"Why should we trust you?" Shepard challenged, now aiming her pistol at the Federation Captain.

Janeway signaled her crew to remain stationary as she moved further into the room, in a direct line toward the pistol pointed at her. "I understand your concern," she said evenly. "We were contacted by the Tarians who asked for our assistance retrieving one of their shuttles from the nebula. Obviously, we were misled about the shuttle's ownership."

"Tarians?" Liara said questioningly. The blue wisps of biotic energy had receded, but continued to twirl around her right arm as she slowly made her way to the Spectre's side, never taking her gaze off of the passive Voyager crew. "It sounds as though you were misled about more than just the shuttle."

"That is how they identified themselves to us," Seven stated, her eyes focusing on the pistol that was pointed at her captain as she mirrored Liara's movements, bringing herself closer to Janeway.

The Spectre smiled without humor. "Convenient story."

"Shepard," Liara chided, "the Batarians were willing to kill their crew."

The redhead's eyes drilled into the Asari, who met the heated look with cool reserve and an arched eyebrow.

"Fine," Shepard grumbled turning her gaze back toward Janeway as she roughly holstered her pistol, an act that admitted her lover made a valid point without actually saying as much. "We'll hear you out."

Janeway gave a short nod of her head in acknowledgement, then addressed Liara. "I need you to deactivate your weapon, as well."

"You're kidding, right?" Shepard scoffed.

"In these situations, I find 'kidding' to be counterproductive."

"She's an Asari!"

Brows furrowing, Janeway asked, "Seven?" She was hoping the ex-Borg with her vast knowledge of species throughout the quadrants might recognize the name.

Seven tilted her head, studying Liara. "I am unfamiliar with Asari or what that may signify," she said, a barely perceptible tone of frustration lingered beneath her words. Not knowing was generally dissatisfying, but being unable to give her captain the information she requested was dissatisfying on another level. It bordered on feeling inadequate.

"It means she's a biotic!" Shepard exclaimed.

Seeing the perplexed look in the Captain's eyes, Liara added, "It means that my ability is biological, not based in technology."

"I see," Janeway said. She had seen many life forms with unique traits over the years—telepathy, shape-shifting, symbiosis—and was intrigued by the idea of being introduced to something new, but in lieu of the unorthodox situation, she tempered her curiosity with practicality. "Well, I assume you can turn it off?"

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Liara's lips. "Yes, Captain." Then, the violet energy swirling around her arm faded away.

"Good. Now, let's go somewhere more comfortable and talk."

…(/\\)...

After being ushered through a short maze of corridors and riding the elevator-like turbo lift to a new level, Shepard and Liara were directed into a small room and seated at an oblong conference table with Captain Janeway, Tuvok, and Seven. The security personnel escorting them through the ship had remained in the corridor just outside the doors, standing guard.

Once the introductions, or reintroductions in some cases, had been made, Shepard addressed the three strangers seated across from her. "How did you get our shuttle into your cargo bay?" It may not have been the most pressing issue, but idling in a gas nebula one moment and being docked in a ship's cargo bay the next, was a feat she had trouble deciphering.

Seven's implant arched slightly, then she glanced at Janeway who was seated on her right side. The older woman nodded, giving her silent assent for the ex-Borg to explain. "Our transporter technology is able to dematerialize an object into energy, transmit it to a target point and then reassemble the object to its original pattern and structure."

Liara leaned forward, with both of hands lying flat on the table top, looking intrigued. "I have never heard of such technology," she confessed.

"You haven't?" Shepard asked, equally fascinated by the new tech and the fact that her lover had no information on it. "Not even from the Salarians?"

Liara shook her head. "No."

Just as she answered, the conference room doors on her left opened and three unfamiliar figures entered the room.

"That's because it does not exist in our universe," said the first of two Batarians that walked through the door, with Chakotay trailing a step behind.

"You invited more of them on your ship?!" Shepard spat accusingly, immediately rising to her feet, pushing her chair violently behind her as though expecting a physical fight. Liara was only a split-second slower to stand, flanking her lover's right side, eyes zeroing in on the newcomers.

The Batarian who spoke wore a flowing burgundy tunic which hung low, barely skimming the floor. The regal garment was crafted from a material that had a soft drape and shimmering surface, like silk velvet, with sleeves that were cut narrow at the shoulder and wide at the wrist. Ornate embroidery lined the cuffs and hemlines with abstract golden designs, reminding Shepard of the Roman Catholic dalmatics she had seen while visiting Vatican City on Earth. The Batarian obviously held a position of power and his refined wardrobe reflected that status.

As soon as the Batarians entered the room, Seven tensed, preparing herself should anything occur. Janeway detected her agitation and took a second to reach out with her hand, touching the blonde's arm briefly in appeasement before tilting her head inquisitively, eyeballing Shepard and Liara's reactions. Even through the disruption, she remained seated, her demeanor calm and collected, and then she smiled politely at the Spectre and Asari before waving her left hand toward the Batarian who had spoken. "This is Ambassador Kahlash. I invited him to join us. He requested our help initially and says he can shed some light on this situation."

Liara saw the muscle jump in Shepard's jaw and knew she was holding back a curse with the greatest of effort.

"Ambassador," Janeway said, beginning the introduction process, "this is-"

"We know _who_ she is," the second Batarian sneered, interrupting the Captain and then stepping in front of the Ambassador to get closer to the Spectre.

"And I know _what_ you are," Shepard retorted. Grinding her teeth to curb her mounting anger, she contemplated launching herself across the conference table to give the man his due.

"The esteemed Admiral Shepard of the Systems Alliance," the Batarian continued, taking no notice of the Spectre's jibe or unpredictable fury. "The hero of the Citadel. The savior of the galaxy. _The_ _Butcher_ _of Torfan_."

"Draen, enough," Kahlash snapped, giving his colleague a withering look. "If you cannot hold your tongue, then return to the colony."

Looking suitably admonished, Draen lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped backward until he settled at his original position behind the Ambassador.

Kahlash took a deep breath, letting some of the tension drain out of the room, then focused his attention on the group around the table. "I apologize, Captain… and Admiral Shepard. Our intent here is peaceful, though it would seem that our past conflicts still hold sway with some of my people."

Ignoring the Ambassador's attempted reparation, Liara brought the conversation back to the statement that startled her the most. "What did you mean when you said that the technology does not exist in our universe?"

"Where the hell are we?" Shepard asked, following her lover's lead. For the first time, she entertained the idea that the "Federation" and unfamiliar species on the ship weren't just unknowns from beyond the Rim, but rather, were something entirely different.

"I'd like to hear your answer, too, Ambassador," Janeway said as she leaned back in her chair. Any warmth had gone from her tone, replaced with something harder, firmer, more commanding. It was clear that she and her crew had been pulled into some, as of yet, unidentified conflict. To say she wasn't happy would have been an understatement.

Kahlash opened his mouth as though to answer Shepard's question, but hesitated, his four eyes darting around the room, assessing each figure. Then, after an internal debate, he sighed and nodded his head. "I will tell you what I can of our story."

Draen shot a heated look at Kahlash, his hands clenching at his sides, but he said nothing.

Eyes narrowing in scrutiny, Janeway forcibly curbed her natural inclination to investigate her guest's obvious knowledge of each other, instead with a nonchalance and diplomatic ease born of years in Starfleet, she said, "Please, join us at the table. I believe the mood may be less combustible once we are all seated."

While those standing took their seats, Janeway's gaze found Chakotay's and she gave a slight nod which he knew from years as her First Officer that he was being dismissed in order to take command of the Bridge.

Once he left and the doors closed, Ambassador Kahlash began. "This may be difficult, but I ask you all to suspend your disbelief until I have told you our whole story. We established our colony eight years ago, shortly after a tragic event, an explosion on the scale of a supernova which destroyed one of our star systems and ended the lives of 300,000 of our people."

"The Alpha Relay," Liara mused.

"Yes. After the destruction of the Alpha Relay we sent ships to explore that quadrant of space, but instead of finding any survivors, we found a spatial anomaly. A rift, if you will, into to this universe. We studied the phenomenon for months, but the Batarian Hegemony never invested much into the sciences, so our resources were limited. Eventually, with the Reaper invasion looming over us, we became desperate. We sent ships into the gas nebula, but as soon as they entered, the rift closed. Three weeks passed, the rift re-opened and our ships returned."

"A wormhole," Janeway stated firmly.

"And a stable one, at that, Captain. Or at least, partially stable."

Genuinely intrigued, Janeway said, "Partially stable?"

"The pathway is stable, but even after eight years of study, determining when the rift will open or close still remains a mystery."

Liara tilted her head thoughtfully. "Over the years there have been rumors about a group of Batarians who defected from the Hegemony and started a colony of their own. Nobody ever knew the exact location though."

"To put so few of the pieces together so quickly," the Ambassador said, a rueful smile curling on his lips, "I'm impressed."

Pursing her lips in irritation, Shepard said, "Just tell us what happened."

Kahlash contemplated the Spectre momentarily, then continued his story. "As a high-ranking member of the Batarian Science Ministry, I was to oversee any information and projects that tied to Reapers, directly or indirectly. Part of my research also involved studying Commander Shepard's exploits. I was one of the few who believed your predictions about the Reaper invasion. I knew it wasn't a matter of _if_ , but a matter of _when_ and I began to prepare."

"Who are these Reapers?" Tuvok asked. As Chief of Security, if there was another threat out there, it was no surprise that he wanted to know about it.

Shepard let out a short, harsh laugh. "A sentient machine race that was hell-bent on destroying organic life in our universe."

"That sounds vaguely familiar," Janeway muttered to herself.

Although barely above a whisper, Seven's enhanced hearing picked up the dry comment and she turned her head towards her captain, arching her optical implant imperiously.

Janeway caught the ex-Borg's reaction and smiled sheepishly.

Not satisfied with the lack of information about a possible hostile race, Tuvok inquired further. "Are you still at war with them?"

Shepard shook her head. "No. The Reapers were defeated."

Janeway placed her hand on the table and gave a slight nod of her head, both of which were a silent signal to her Chief of Security. From it, he knew that even though the answer to his question was brief and to the point, any further investigation could be done at a later time.

"As you and Dr. T'Soni know," Kahlash said, "the Reaper's began their invasion in the Vular System, near the heart of Batarian space, and quickly advanced on Khar'shan, our home world. Reaper spies sabotaged Hegemony defenses, allowing our navy to be crushed as easily as if it had never existed and sealing the doomed fate of my people."

"But you were able to establish a colony," Liara commented.

"Desperation is a powerful motivator. During those three weeks that the ship had been stranded, they explored the surrounding area and discovered a planet suitable for colonization. This information was only known to myself and those aboard the ship. After their return, I worked tirelessly to get as many of my people as possible to other side of the rift."

Fascinated by this new piece of historical information, Liara asked, "What about the Hegemony?"

"We never told them."

"I assume the Hegemony is a ruling branch of your government," Janeway inquired, somewhat taken aback. She was starting to compare the information being given now to what she had been told during her diplomatic talks.

"No longer," Draen said, as he folded his arms in front of his chest, making no attempt to disguise his irritation with the red-headed woman sitting across from him.

If Shepard was bothered by his dogmatic, angry stare, Seven could not tell. It was as though the Tarian was beneath her notice which seemed only to infuriate him more.

"The Batarian Hegemony was a totalitarian entity that had its hand in every aspect of a Batarian's life," Kahlash said, attempting to give a more detailed account of their past. "Their oppressive regime supported a corrupt and amoral caste system that was built on a foundation of slavery, and where social isolation was reinforced by dictating that only government-approved news entered or left Batarian space. It ended when the Reapers annihilated my home world."

The Ambassador hesitated, obviously troubled by the subject matter, and took a deep, calming breath. Then, almost wistfully, he added, "The discovery of the rift may have come after a great tragedy, but many of our people thought of it as their salvation."

"Why did you introduce yourselves to us as Tarians instead of Batarians," Janeway demanded, disgruntled by the idea that she had been lied to.

"We did not deceive you, Captain," Kahlash explained, as though reading the Captain's mind. "We were starting a new colony, breaking away from the old ways. We wanted to distinguish ourselves in more than just deeds, so we chose a new name for ourselves."

"How did you evade the Reapers?" Liara asked, her thoughts racing with theories and possibilities. "They would have detected the rift or at the very least noticed all of your ships fleeing to the same quadrant of space."

"The universe, both of them, seems to have a sense of irony," Kahlash said. "The rift, which is in the Viper Nebula closed just before the Reapers invaded the Vular system and remained closed for six months. When it re-opened, the Reapers had moved on from Batarian space."

"Six months is a long time to be disconnected from your chain of supply," Seven stated.

"By that time, New Bahak, our colony, had over 2000 inhabitants and we were nearly self-sufficient."

Liara raised an inquisitive brow. "Nearly?"

"Our ships, like all ships from our universe, are equipped with the standard FTL drive, which is powered by eezo. This universe does not have eezo or an equivalent. Or at least, we have yet to find it." The Ambassador's gaze scanned the table, assessing whether or not to divulge the next piece of information. "We are still in the process of converting over to the spaceflight technology of this universe. So for now, when the rift is open, we send scout ships through. They return when they have amassed the specified amount of eezo."

Before the Voyager crew could ask the obvious question, Liara offered an explanation. "In our universe, eezo, or element zero, is a rare material that, when subjected to an electrical current, releases dark energy which can be manipulated into a mass effect field, raising or lowering the mass of all objects within that field. From what we know, this element is generated when solid matter, such as a planet, is affected by the energy of a star going supernova."

Seven was impressed by how quickly the Asari adapted to the idea of being in a different universe. "In the cargo bay, I felt a gravitational distortion. Are you able to manipulate these fields, as well?"

"Yes," Liara said, nodding her head slightly. "My ability, something we term as biotics, allows me to generate and control mass effect fields."

The Spectre rolled her eyes, an outward expression of her mild but rapidly growing annoyance with this whole situation, specifically the Batarians sitting across the table from her. "So you survived the Reaper invasion by hiding in another universe. Bravo. Why the hell did you bring us here?!"

Kahlash met the Spectre's ill-tempered gaze. "We didn't, Admiral. The men you killed were part of a dissident group. One that wants to return to the ways of the Hegemony." Then, his eyes panned across the room, addressing the rest of those seated around the table. "Right now, the rift is closed and we have no idea when it will open. We heard about Voyager and its unique technology months ago, so we reached out, hoping that their transporters could breach the rift and bring through a shipment of eezo. Obviously, this group found out about our plan and intervened with their own agenda."

"And what is their agenda?" Shepard said, her tone sounding like incrimination.

"I have no idea, Admiral."

"Isn't that convenient? And here I thought they were your opposition."

"What I do know is that it would have taken a lot of planning and resources to get you to the correct co-ordinates at the correct time to be transported here. But why bring you here at all?" the Ambassador questioned, hurling his own silent allegations. "Perhaps there is something special about your shuttle? Or on your shuttle?"

When the Spectre made no move to answer the question, Kahlash added, "Or perhaps they were simply after _you_. After all, we both know about your sordid history with my people."

Shepard was immediately on her feet, her mouth twisting into a snarl. "And I know all about your people's sordid past!"

The Ambassador stood, his four eyes bearing down on the woman across from the table with blatant animosity. "You know nothing, human!"

"Don't I?" the Spectre said, resentment and spite seething within each of her words. "Let me tell you what I know, Kahlash!"

Liara was the next to stand, placing her left hand on her lover's forearm, trying to soothe the rapidly rising tension now permeating the room. "Shepard, please…"

"Ambassador Kahlash! Admiral Shepard!" Janeway said in her command voice as she stood, attempting to gain control of the conversation that had been so easily derailed. It was obvious that the history between the parties at the table was contentious, and before she could broker any kind of cooperation, she would need to know more details.

"I apologize, Captain," Kahlash said, bowing his head. "Apparently, I, too, still feel the sting of old wounds."

Shepard said nothing, though her green eyes were fuming.

"I suggest we reconvene tomorrow after we've all had some time to cool down."

Kahlash nodded in agreement.

"Tuvok, please escort the Ambassador Kahlash and Draen to the transporter room."

The Chief of Security, who was also on his feet, nodded, then proceeded to direct the two Tarians out the room.

After the doors closed, Shepard turned toward Liara. "You knew about their colony?"

"I heard rumors, but nothing definitive. Certainly not this."

"But you neglected to tell me?" Shepard said, sounding accusatory.

"There was nothing to tell. It was all shadows and whispers."

"Funny. That just happens to be your particular brand of currency."

"Shepard," Liara admonished, "there was nothing substantial. All of the rumors pointed towards a peaceful colony focused on rebuilding outside of the Hegemony's influence."

"So you did know more, you just chose not to tell me."

"And why would I do that, _Admiral_?" Liara challenged. "What _possible_ reason could I have for keeping unsubstantiated rumors about Batarians from you?" The tone of her voice made it clear to all in the room that the question was rhetorical.

Janeway fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead cleared her throat hoping it was loud enough to politely interrupt the two guests before their argument turned into something more heated. Being referee to another verbal altercation was not especially enticing to her.

Shepard glanced at the Captain, then at Seven before her eyes returned to Liara. "We'll talk about this later."

"Of course," Liara said sweetly as she sat down. "And we'll also take the opportunity to talk about your outing with Miranda on Terra Nova, since it fits the topic of avoided conversations."

Shepard blinked. "You know about Terra Nova?"

"What do you think, Admiral?"

Seven's icy blue gaze narrowed slightly. Even she was chilled by the Asari's unassuming comment which sounded more like a warning even though the smile never left her lips.

Frowning, Shepard raked her fingers roughly through her short, red hair. Then, she shook her head and followed the Asari's lead, returning to her chair. "So what now, Captain?" she asked, as though the charged few moments had never happened.

Janeway took a moment to settle her thoughts, then sat down. "Well, with the rift closed, it seems you are stranded here for the time being. Do you have any idea why the Tarians would target you?"

"No. But in my universe, Batarian's are no more than pirates and mercenaries. There's no telling what their motivation might be."

Janeway's eyes flicked between the Spectre and Asari, her instincts were saying that there was more to the story, a lot more. "Okay. For now let's not focus on the why and instead focus on what we are going to do." Her instincts also said that now was not the time to push for information. "I'll have my people look into this rift and see what they can discover."

"Captain," Liara said, "I may be able to offer some assistance with the research."

"Any help is appreciated, Dr. T'Soni. Seven, I'd like you to coordinate pulling all of the data together."

"Of course, Captain."

"We will do everything we can to get you back home."

Tilting her head skeptically, Shepard asked, "So you're really going to help us?"

"Yes, but I'm also imposing some restrictions while you're on my ship. You'll have your own quarters but limited access to Voyager's systems and your whereabouts will be monitored at all times."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Right now though, I'd like to suggest a visit to our sickbay, so our doctor can examine your injuries. That head wound looks painful."

"I've had worse."

Liara's left hand reached out, gently squeezing her lover's forearm. When the Spectre looked over, the Asari's expression softened. "Shepard…"

"Fine," the redhead muttered, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her playfulness. "There is no resisting you."

"I know," Liara said, a big grin appearing in her lips before she leaned over to peck the Spectre on the cheek. "And you love it."

Shepard flashed the Asari an adoring smile.

Janeway, who up until now had only seen the Spectre's barely contained rage and irritation, was simultaneously surprised and encouraged by the genuineness of her affectionate display. Glancing over at Seven, she noticed the ex-Borg watching the interaction with equal fascination. She hoped the shift in temperament was a positive sign and that the task of returning her guests to their proper universe wouldn't be as difficult as she originally assumed.

 _Time will tell_ , she thought to herself. _Providing we don't run out of it._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:  
**

Okay, so... confession time. This chapter was just FUN to write. :)

Again, thank you all for your interest, it helps to keep me focused and motivated. Not to mention the smile it puts on my face.

And to my beta reader, Lyaksandra... you are superb! Muchas gracias!

* * *

Chapter 4

 _Delta Quadrant 1410  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
Sickbay, Deck 5_

After a quick detour to the shuttle in Cargo Bay One to allow Shepard and Liara a chance to store their weapons and armor, Janeway and Seven escorted Voyager's two guests to Sickbay. Tuvok attempted to assign them a security detail, but Janeway wanted to establish some much needed goodwill, so she waved it off. She knew her Chief of Security would monitor their movements, regardless.

Liara was grateful to once again only be wearing her blue and white jumpsuit. Since the end of the Reaper war, having an occasion to don her armor had steadily declined. Instead of face-to-face confrontations, most of her work was carried out under a shroud of secrecy, focused on directing the flow of information gathered by her network to reestablish trade routes and aid governments and refugees with the rebuilding process. Shepard, on the other hand, was unsettled without her armor. Being in an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar faces stirred all of her combat instincts. But those same trusted instincts, ones that had saved her life numerous times, also pushed her to give Captain Janeway the benefit of the doubt and assume that her crew was just as Janeway claimed them to be—misled participants in this mess. At least her navy blue Alliance uniform offered a modicum of comfort in its familiarity and distinct design.

Once they left the cargo bay, the journey to Sickbay involved taking the turbolift to deck five and a short walk through the corridor. When the doors slid open, Shepard and Liara got their first look at Voyager's impressive medical facilities.

Three beds equipped with biofunction monitors lined the right wall of the main room, and in the back, in its own alcove, was a surgical bed which had a large, sophisticated sensor cluster installed directly above. To the left was a small office, and like the rest of the Sickbay, it appeared clean and concise.

When the Sickbay doors closed, the Voyager's doctor materialized in the middle of the room. "Please state the nature of your medical emergency."

"You're a hologram!" Liara stated, unable to keep the astonishment from her voice as she examined the photonic projection of a balding, middle-aged human male.

"Obviously. I am the ship's Emergency Medical Hologram."

Janeway stepped forward to explain. "When we first arrived in the Delta Quadrant, our ship's Chief Medical Officer along with our nurse were killed, necessitating extended use of the EMH. He has become an invaluable member of our crew."

"You use the word 'he' not 'it', and call him a 'member of your crew'," Liara stated, watching the EMH closely, "not a tool or piece of equipment?"

Narrowing her eyes, Janeway replied stoutly, "The Doctor is a full-fledged member of this crew. Although originally conceived as a temporary medical backup, _he_ has grown beyond his programming."

Fascinated by the implication, the Asari said, "So you are able to independently advance your own programming?"

"The Doctor is an advanced digital life-form with the ability to grow and adapt just as any other sentient being," Seven stated protectively.

"Of course. I did not mean to be insensitive." Liara turned toward the EMH noting that he wore a uniform similar to the other Voyager crew she had seen, but his was blue. "I apologize."

Shepard, who had been silently watching the scene unfold, asked, "What's your name?"

Seven turned toward the Spectre. "He has yet to choose his name."

"So… what? People go around calling him EMH?"

"No. They are usually intelligent enough to call me 'Doctor'."

The Spectre chuckled at the sardonic snub. "Dry humor subroutines. Reminds me of EDI, but more acerbic and, no offense, without the sexy voice."

"EDI?" Seven said.

"My ship's AI. Officially named in conjunction with her original purpose as a cyber-warfare suite: Enhanced Defense Intelligence."

The EMH crossed his arms defensively. "I am far more than a simple AI controlling a ship, Admiral."

"I'm sure you are, Doctor. Don't get your holographic panties in a wad. And EDI is anything but simple. She's the most advanced AI in my galaxy. She adapts, evolves and is sentient as far as I am concerned."

"I'm sure your opinion holds great sway on the subject of non-standard sentience."

"Doctor," Janeway cautioned.

Shepard laughed. "Worse has been said about me by much scarier entities, Captain. Besides, if she could, EDI would come here herself and kick his ass."

Seven's optical implant rose skeptically. "You stated she was an artificial intelligence programmed within your ship. How would she 'kick his ass'?"

"She is bound within the Normandy," Liara answered, "but a few years ago she acquired a cybernetic body."

Both of the Spectre's hands outlined an imaginary hourglass shape in the air. "To go along with that super sexy voice."

Liara rolled her eyes at her lover's less than tactful display. "Although primarily existing in the ship, EDI's mobile platform allows her to experience the world around her in entirely new ways."

Shepard turned toward the EMH. "What about you, Doctor?"

"What about me?"

"Do you ever get beyond the range of Voyager's holographic nodes?"

"Yes, in fact, I do. I have my mobile emitter which allows me to travel with complete independence."

"Good. EDI told me that acquiring her cybernetic body gave her a new perspective from which to process the world. The people, the environment, the nuances of organic relationships. Getting beyond the ship's walls, seeing organics interact socially and interacting with them in turn is all part of one's evolution."

"I… agree with you."

"Try not to sound so shocked. You might glitch a subroutine."

The EMH scowled hotly, then opened his mouth as though to say something, but Janeway quickly raised her hand, promptly ceasing any chance for a colorful retort. "Doctor. Perhaps you could focus on treating Admiral Shepard's injury?"

"Please, just call me Shepard. 'Admiral Shepard' makes me feel old."

"Before I treat anyone, I would like to run a few medical scans. You look human enough, but I would like to make sure." The EMH turned toward Liara. "And if…"

"Liara T'Soni," the Asari provided.

"If Liara T'Soni has no objections, then I would like to scan her, as well. If they are going to be guests aboard Voyager, I would like to have a baseline for both in case of an emergency."

Liara hesitated momentarily, unsure if she wanted to give permission, but then curiosity got the best of her. "I have no objections."

Shepard smiled, knowing all along what her lover's answer would be. The Asari was a scientist at heart.

The EMH stepped to the side, extending his arm in the direction of the three beds behind him. "Please lay down on one of the biobeds."

"On my ship," Shepard said, "we call them medbeds."

"Here they are called biobeds and if you want to be treated, you'll lay down on one."

"Fantastic bedside manner."

Liara tilted her head reproachfully. "Shepard…"

"Fine." The redhead sat down on the biobed furthest to the left. "I was only teasing. For a hologram, he's easily ruffled."

Liara chose the middle biobed. "Shepard…"

"Okay, okay..."

After both had lain down, the bioscan tests began and the Doctor healed the wound above Shepard's eye.

When she was certain the scans had been completed, Janeway spoke. "So what can you tell us about our guests, Doctor?"

"While they are not from this universe, their DNA does not indicate any temporal anomalies," the EMH stated.

Liara hopped down from the biobed, then held up both of her hands as a deep frown etched in her brow. "Hold on just a moment. You actually check for temporal and phase variances in DNA?"

"Yes, of course," the EMH replied haughtily.

"Fascinating."

"What the hell," Shepard said, dumbfounded by the thought. She was still sitting on the biobed and had made no move to get off. "Does time travel happen a lot?"

"Too often, if you ask the Captain," Seven replied stoically.

"And jumping to different universes?"

"Again, too often."

Shepard looked at Liara, then smiled devilishly. "Maybe that explains your attitude shift when I first saw you on Illium those many years ago."

Scowling in annoyance, Liara stepped toward the Spectre, her right hand reaching behind to the human's back. "Or perhaps it is you who is from a different universe."

Shepard yelped as she jumped down from the biobed, playfully twisting away in the process. "Hey, that tickled."

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Liara's mouth. "Just making sure."

"You have to admit," Shepard said while rubbing her backside, "you _were_ acting a little standoffish."

"You are going to bring that up _now_? _Here_?" Liara's incredulous tone hinted that this was a common argument between them. "I thought you were dead, so being standoffish was quite reasonable. Or have you forgotten about the evil clone incident?"

Running her fingers through her short red locks, the Spectre flashed an awkward grin. "Okay, that's a valid point."

Seven raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You were dead?"

"Only mostly dead," Shepard replied. "Just for two years though."

Tilting her head, Seven said, "Explain."

"Short version. I was spaced, my suit ruptured, but I got better."

"I would prefer to hear the longer version."

Shepard sighed dramatically, but the grin on her face betrayed her amusement. "A few years back, my ship before EDI, the Normandy SR-1, was destroyed in a surprise attack by an—at the time—unknown enemy. I was spaced just after saving my pilot who was being a jackass and wanted to go down with the ship. My suit ruptured and I suffocated while free falling to a planet's surface."

Liara's hand reached for Shepard's entwining their fingers together with a level of familiarity revealing another dimension of their relationship. It was an act that was both supportive and comforting.

"My body," the Spectre continued, "was found by agents of an entity called the Shadow Broker who had been hired by a race called the Collectors, who just happened to be the unknown enemy who shot my ship down. Turns out they were after me the whole time. Apparently, they wanted to dissect me down to the sub-particle level, but as my frozen body was about to exchange hands, it was rescued by the beautiful and utterly amazing Dr. Liara T'Soni."

Shepard squeezed the Asari's hand affectionately as an endearing smile formed on her lips. "She then handed my body off to a rogue black-ops organization called Cerberus who funneled massive amounts of money and unlimited resources into my resurrection. Two years later, I woke up. Nothing much to say after that."

Liara chuckled amusement. "I hardly call surviving the Omega-4 Relay, destroying the Collector's base and saving the galaxy by stopping the Reaper invasion as 'nothing much to say'."

"No?"

"No," the Asari said teasingly. "Where you are concerned, I would call it 'business as usual'."

"How was your revival accomplished?" Seven was interested in the resurrection not only for scientific purposes, but also for personal reasons.

"Apparently the method of my demise, suffocating in the vacuum of space and then landing in a frozen tundra, was the bare bones method of cryogenic preservation. Cybernetic implants were used to aid in the reconstruction of my damaged bones, skin and organs, then they were combined with some fluids that I can't pronounce to restart the blood flow. Add a little elbow grease, a dab of luck and a bit of magic and voilà… here I am."

"Luck and magic are irrelevant."

Shepard flashed a wry grin. "Not if you're mostly dead."

The Doctor's interest in the conversation perked up. "Well, that explains the amount of the cybernetics in your body."

"And you've suffered no ill side-effects?" Janeway asked. Her interest was piqued for the same personal reason as Seven's, because of their own experience with resurrection when a member of their crew, Neelix, was revived with the use of Seven's nanoprobes.

"Nothing long-lasting," Shepard said, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Though it took a few weeks before I could eat solid food."

Janeway's steel blue eyes narrowed, studying the Spectre. "You experienced no emotional trauma from your ordeal?"

Shepard frowned. "Emotional trauma?"

Clearing her throat to stifle a laugh, Liara commented, "I think the Captain is wondering if you had crisis of faith or started to question the fabric of existence."

"Oh… you're wondering while in that 'sleep of death, what dreams may have come, when I shuffled off my mortal coil'."

Surprised, Janeway's gaze onto the Spectre somehow intensified. "So Shakespeare exists in your universe, as well. That's fascinating."

"I suppose," Shepard said hesitantly.

"That _is_ fascinating," the Doctor said, his eyes wide with excitement. "What of Mozart, Da Vinci and Michelangelo? Is Hippocrates the father of modern medicine? Or Galileo the father of modern science? Perhaps a more in-depth study of the Admiral is in order, too. Physical, psychological, chemical..."

While the EMH rambled on, Shepard smirked, and without glancing at her companion, elbowed Liara in the ribs. "Seems like every scientist I meet finds me compelling enough to dissect."

The Asari turned an equally scathing and reprimanding look toward the Spectre, but the redheaded woman, who was still smirking, did not even bother to acknowledge it. For the others in the room, it was obvious that there was much more going on, a hidden context, to that cryptic exchange than was readily apparent.

Before the doctor could ramble on for much longer, Captain Janeway raised her hand, halting his monologue. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Doctor, but now is not the time."

"Of course, Captain," the Doctor said. "Perhaps when the Admiral-"

"Doctor," Janeway interrupted, her eyebrow cocked in warning.

The EMH nodded his head, looking dutifully scolded.

"To answer your original question, Captain," the Spectre said, getting the conversation back on track, "No. I had no pull to question the meaning of life." Then, as though punctuating her statement, she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

Janeway knew the emotional and spiritual issues Neelix had struggled with, how his belief system had been challenged, so she was somewhat surprised by the Spectre's admission. "It sounds as though you were quite fortunate."

"I've always thought so," Shepard said as looked around the room taking in the vast array of medical equipment. "So this is your med bay?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied, "but 'Sickbay' is the more accurate term."

The Spectre nodded her head, clearly engrossed in thought, while absently running her index finger along the length of the biobed. Then, an impish gleam sparked in her eye and she turned towards Liara. "So… where's my reward?"

"Reward?" Liara questioned. "Shepard, I fail to see how an analysis of your DNA's phasic resonance qualifies as an injury."

"He also used… what did you call it Doctor?"

"A dermal regenerator."

"A dermal regenerator to heal the gash on my head."

Liara took a step closer to the Spectre, analyzing the healed patch of skin which showed no mark at all, not even a scar. "He did a remarkable job."

"Of course I did," the Doctor stated haughtily.

"A deal's a deal, T'Soni."

Seven, who was curious about the demand for a prize, watched as the two newcomers faced off.

The Asari tilted her head, responding to the human with only a raised eyebrow and a slight pursing of her lips.

Shepard crossed her arms in front of her chest, resting her weight on her right leg, and then returned the challenge by raising her own eyebrow in a mock rebuttal.

As the human and Asari continued to silently glare at each other, Seven contemplated the possible meaning of their non-verbal discourse. Obviously some discussion had taken place prior to their arrival in Sickbay. She glanced over at her captain who shrugged her shoulders in bewilderment.

"You know, we never specified that it had to be in the Normandy's med bay," Shepard said, finally breaking the staring contest as her hands dropped to her sides.

Liara pondered the statement momentarily. "No, we didn't, did we." But the Asari still did not move.

"So you're not going to honor the deal?"

Narrowing her eyes in deep scrutiny, Liara replied, "And hear your excessively dramatic narration when you see Garrus? I would never give you that pleasure, Spectre."

"No?" Shepard's voice almost sounded disappointed.

"No. Instead, I'll benevolently grant your request for a reward."

Liara stepped close enough that Shepard could feel the heat radiating from her body as iridescent blue eyes locked onto green. Then, the Asari's right hand gently settled on the Spectre's waist while the fingertips of her left tenderly brushed across her cheek, tracing a path along the outline of her ear and sinking within the tangled depths of the short reddish locks. Without a word, Liara leaned in placing a soft, seductive kiss upon the human's lips, and in response the human's hand instinctively captured the Asari's hips, pulling their bodies together.

" _Well, that answers that question_ ," Janeway thought somewhat befuddled as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Any questions she might have had about the nature of her guest's relationship were answered with decisive candor.

The EMH, annoyed by the time consuming affectionate display, attempted to get his patient's attention by mimicking a cough.

Oblivious to the minuscule interruption, the pair continued their kiss, which in turn only increased the EMH's irritation.

"Excuse me, Admiral Shepard."

Seven quirked her eyebrow, surprised that the couple could remain lost in their own world despite the Doctor's antics. The display was both revealing in terms of the relationship between the pair, but also unsettling since she was witnessing the intimate scene while standing next to the object of her own unrequited affection. It took all of her Borg-ish resolve to appear outwardly indifferent while an annoying anxiousness assaulted her inwardly.

Janeway, who had watched the playful banter with an amused if not watchful eye, was now thunderstruck. The kiss that had started out as sweet and almost innocent had become increasingly heated, not because of tongue play or amorous fondling, neither of that had occurred, but rather because of a slowly building passion, a barely contained intensity that smoldered between the pair and seemed grow exponentially as each moment passed. She glanced at Seven from the corner of her eye, noted the impassive expression on her face, but also caught sight of an almost imperceptible spark in her eye. Piqued curiosity? General interest? Personal longing? She needed this to stop before she got lost in the uncomfortable possibilities for Seven's attentiveness.

Janeway cleared her throat somewhat loudly. "Admiral Shepard," she said, repeating the EMH's hail, "I hate to interrupt, but we really need to talk."

At that, the couple broke away both looking a bit disoriented. Shepard recovered first, smiling sheepishly at the audience. "Sorry, I was just getting my reward." Her arm remained coiled around the Asari's waist, keeping their bodies close.

Seven was the first to comment. "That is an illogical reward for being damaged."

This time Liara quirked a playful eyebrow. "On the contrary, it is quite logical."

Seven tilted her head, silently asking for a more detailed explanation.

Smiling, Shepard explained. "It's not for _being_ injured, it's for not being seriously injured."

"Critically injured," Liara corrected, as the fingertips of her right hand traced the Spectre's unblemished forehead.

"That, too."

The Asari explained the reward system a bit further. "Since we've known each other, Shepard has been inside a medical facility for serious injuries thirty-seven times, ten of which were deemed critical and three of which were life threatening—"

"Wait," the Spectre interrupted, "you keep track?"

"Yes, of course," Liara said matter-of-factly, her tone implying that it would have been absurd not to. "Since we implemented the reward system—a kiss for sustaining no critical or life threatening injuries—she has been admitted fifteen times, but for only minor injuries." She turned toward the Spectre, a playful accusatory tone floating through her words. "Some of which were questionable admissions."

"Dr. Chakwas was just being thorough."

"You bribed her with a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy."

"Only the one time." With a wolfish grin, Shepard added, "And the reward was worth every cred."

A purplish shade slowly crept up the Asari's neck and along her cheeks. "I should hope so, Spectre."

"I see," Seven said. "Your reward system appears to be… most effective."

Liara turned her head toward the Spectre, an affectionate smile curling at the corner of her mouth, then she leaned in placing a quick kiss on the human's cheek. "My thoughts exactly."

Looking smug, Shepard said, "You should give the reward system some thought for Voyager, Captain."

Janeway pursed her lips, clearly not amused by the Spectre's glibness. "I doubt Dr. T'Soni would be interested in bestowing such rewards on my crew."

"I hope not. But you could."

"Somehow I doubt Dr. T'Soni bestows such rewards on _all_ of your crew, either."

"True," Shepard agreed, flashing Voyager's captain a faux innocent look. "There's more impact and incentive when you single someone special out."

Janeway leveled a force ten glare at Shepard, the kind the made paint peel from bulkheads. Even though Liara wasn't the focus of the glare, she felt the heat and averted her eyes to the ground. Shepard, on the other hand, was familiar with such blazing looks. She had, after all, faced down an ancient machine race, blood-raged Krogans and irate members of the Citadel Council.

Still though, through those very encounters, she was wise enough to know when to switch tactics.

"So Captain," she said, deftly changing the subject, "you mentioned we needed to talk?"

Janeway nodded, her irked gaze tempering slightly. "I'd like to ask permission for my people to review your historical database, provided you have one with you."

"You want to know more about the Batarians."

"This is an unusual event, unprecedented in some aspects, and access to your database would allow us the chance to study a previously unknown universe. But yes, I would also like to know more about the Tarians… or Batarians. I'd like to know who I am dealing with."

"Why do I get the feeling that if you want something, you are persistent?"

"I've been told it is one of my more endearing traits."

"Along with your wit?"

A casual smile pulled on Janeway's lips. "I've been told that, too."

"Since you're granting us access to your systems, it seems only fair that we do the same," Shepard said, her smile immediately fading away. "The more you know about the Batarians, the better off we'll all be. I can give you a copy of the unrestricted files from my shuttle." Any sense of her early playfulness had disappeared when she spoke of the Batarians.

Before Janeway could comment about the Spectre's shift in attitude, she was hailed.

"Chakotay to Janeway."

"Go ahead, Commander."

"Captain, the Tarian High Council is asking to speak to you."

"Thank you. Put it through to my ready-room, I am heading there now. Janeway out."

When she turned to address her guests, her expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry, but getting the files from your shuttle will have to wait. Perhaps after dinner?"

Liara and Shepard exchanged a look, then the Spectre said, "That will be fine, Captain."

"Good." Although she wasn't looking forward to her discussion with the Tarian's, Janeway was able to put her disinclination aside and offer a genuine smile in Seven's direction. "Will you please escort our guests to the VIP quarters?"

With a curt nod, Seven answered, "Of course, Captain."

On that vaguely comforting note, Janeway left the Sickbay intent on proceeding to her ready room. Then, a moment later, Seven led the two guests toward the turbolift so they could be shown their quarters.

The Doctor looked nonplussed as he stood, alone, in the middle of the Sickbay. "Computer, deactivate EMH."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

Yes... this was another fun chapter to write.

A big thank you goes out to FusionPanda who provided the snazzy new cover image to the story. Molte grazie!

* * *

Chapter 5

 _Delta Quadrant 2100  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Cargo Bay 2]_

Seven of Nine, late tertiary adjunct of the Borg Collective and current Astrometrics Officer for the Federation starship _USS Voyager_ , stood at the data terminal in Cargo Bay 2, entering intricate computations, her mind swirling with equations and theories regarding the spatial anomaly that bridged two universes. She had discovered that if she concentrated very hard on work, it usually kept her from feeling anxious or uncertain, which had been occurring at an increasing rate of frequency over the last few months. More often than not, the onset of these unpredictable emotions manifested in direct correlation to thoughts about the Captain or to the time they spent doing irrelevant things. Things that had grown in relevance the more she and her captain spent time doing them together, such as recreational activities on the holodeck or having breakfast in the Mess.

The absence of those emotions was a welcome relief to Seven, though it inevitably did not last very long. Even now she felt the flutter of anxious anticipation spread though her abdomen, a sensation which Naomi Wildman once equated to "having butterflies in her stomach." Another imprecise human idiom that was inaccurate, but nonetheless effective in its description of what Seven felt.

Aboard starships and space stations, there is technically no such thing as "night" or "day," however, on Voyager, three duty shifts encompassed a 24 hour period. One Earth standard day. The Alpha shift, also known as the day shift began at 0800 hours and ended at 1600. The Beta shift, or swing shift started at 1600 and ended at 2400. The Gamma Shift, which was referred to as the night shift, ran between the times when the Beta shift ended and the Alpha shift began. Since being stranded in the Delta Quadrant seven years ago, Captain Janeway had developed a habit, whenever possible, of walking through the corridors of Voyager towards the end of the Beta shift. Not only did this exploration familiarize her with lesser known nooks of the starship, she was also able to interact with crew members she would normally have little contact with, which had the positive effect of strengthening ship moral. Over the last few months, though, the Captain had changed her normal route, ending her stroll at the door of Cargo Bay 2.

This knowledge was the catalyst of Seven's anticipation, and despite the technological distinctiveness of the Borg enhancements coursing through her body, she was unable to quell the subsequent nervousness.

As if sensing the ex-Borg's unsettled state, the doors to the cargo bay opened.

"Burning the midnight oil, Seven?" Janeway said as she moved through the threshold and headed toward the console where Seven was adamantly focused. There was a greenish tinge to the illumination in this area of the cargo bay, tainted by the sickly emerald light emanating from the Borg alcoves lining one wall.

"Fossil fuels are an inferior source of energy."

"Back in the day, they were the only source of energy."

Seven looked up, her pale blue eyes brightening at the sight of her captain. "It is fortunate then that we are no longer confined by those limitations." Compact, with the most marvelous gray-blue eyes and auburn hair laced with fire, Kathryn Janeway was a woman who radiated authority and presence like a warp core radiated energy. That didn't necessarily hold much weight with Seven, depending on the circumstances, but it was a characteristic worth noting.

"True. So what have you found out about the rift?"

Seven had not mentioned that she was going analyze the anomaly, Janeway just knew her that well.

"I am reviewing the data the Tarian scientist's provided, but the information is insufficient. I suggest reconfiguring Voyager's astrometric sensors on the anomaly, analyzing the full broadcast spectrum."

"Do it. Hopefully, our scans will pick up something the Tarians missed."

"Yes, Captain."

Janeway strolled over to the console and peered at the data Seven had been studying. "And what of our guests?"

"Admiral Shepard and Doctor T'Soni were escorted to the VIP quarters, as requested." Seven knew Janeway had reviewed her report regarding Voyager's new inhabitants, but she also knew her captain liked to hear about those details that didn't usually make it into official documentation—first impressions, gut instincts, personal reflections. Although Seven didn't value such imprecise deduction, she attempted to fulfill her captain's unspoken request. "A meal was brought to their room though they insisted they needed nothing. I believe they are still 'adjusting' to their new surroundings."

"Being transported into another universe would unsettle most people."

"Did the conference with the Tarian High Command go well?" Seven asked, knowing that the unscheduled meeting had consumed most of her captain's afternoon.

"If going around in circles is progress, then yes."

Seven smiled minutely at the adorably annoyed expression Janeway possessed. "The meeting was unproductive?"

Looking up from the console, Janeway found herself staring into the most beautiful pair of inquisitive blue eyes she could ever recall seeing. "If anything," the older woman mused, "it emphasized the need for some social and historical context between Admiral Shepard's System Alliance and the Batarians. Trying to contain a fire when you don't know its origin feels somewhat futile."

Frowning slightly, Seven said, "I thought Admiral Shepard agreed to give you a copy of the historical database from her shuttle."

Janeway nodded. "She did. But to avoid any more unexpected incidences, I have requested that she retrieve it in the morning. The cargo bay should be… cleaned up by then."

"Their hostility toward each other makes a diplomatic solution unlikely."

"Not too long ago the same could be said about the Federation and the Klingons."

"Peace was only achieved _after_ Klingon Chancellor Gorkon was assassinated."

Janeway sighed ruefully, knowing that the blonde, with her perfect memory, remembered the signing of the first Khitomer Accords correctly. "I'd like to avoid that part."

Tilting her head, Seven studied her captain, noticing the appearance of periorbital dark circles under the older woman's eyes. "You look tired, Captain," she noted.

"It's been a long day, Seven," Janeway replied, offering a slight smile at her Astrometric officer's barely veiled concern. Not only had the means of acquiring the dilithium for Voyager's survival become much more complex, but it had also become tarnished with the death of one of her crew.

"Sleep would be beneficial to you."

"Just as much as a regeneration cycle would be to you."

Although she could go days without regenerating, a state similar to sleep, in order to properly maintain her Borg implants and remain at peak efficiency, Seven had to regenerate at least three hours a day. "I will regenerate when I have finished analysis of all the data."

Janeway rested a hand lightly on Seven's arm. "You'll regenerate now." Then, with a twinkle in her eye she softly added, "That's an order."

For a moment, the connecting gaze that Janeway gave Seven made the heart of the ex-Borg stutter, such was its mysterious intensity. Mysterious because Seven couldn't _read_ her captain and she desperately wanted to know what was swirling behind those gray-blue eyes. Instead of asking, though, she replied, "Yes, Captain."

Seven made her way to the Borg alcove, stepped onto its platform, then turned around so she was facing out toward the cargo bay. "You will proceed to your quarters immediately after leaving the cargo bay."

Suppressing a laugh, Janeway replied, "I promise." Only the ex-Borg would have enough gumption to give an order to the Captain… on her own ship!

"Good night, Captain," Seven said. Then, she took a step back into the alcove, closed her eyes and allowed her cortical node to initiate a regeneration cycle.

Janeway manually dimmed the lights through the console and then made her way to the cargo bay doors. Before stepping through the threshold, she turned around and allowed herself a moment to gaze upon the peaceful visage of her Astrometrics officer.

Though outwardly the Captain could be easily described as self-confident, extrovert, and outgoing, she was also very _alone_. When she went back to her quarters at the end of a shift, she was a single entity with no bonded connection to another, other than in a professional form. With Seven, some of that loneliness and self-isolation had been chipped away. Although Janeway would never have told another living soul, it had resulted in her feeling more a part of life aboard the Voyager, and had done much to disperse some of the depressions she seemed fated to sporadically suffer.

Sighing contentedly, her characteristic half-smile tugging on her lips, she whispered, "Good night, Seven. Sweet dreams."

…(/\\)…

 _Delta Quadrant 0800  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Deck 2, Corridor]_

Shepard gave a sideways glance toward the blonde walking a step ahead of her through Voyager's corridor. "Your ship is monitoring my whereabouts. You don't need to escort me."

Without altering her stride, Seven replied, "You are unfamiliar with Voyager's design."

"Your ship can give me directions," Shepard countered.

"I am a more efficient guide."

The Spectre snorted. "Guide or chaperon?"

Seven's gaze remained focused on the path before them. She knew Tuvok's security team covertly monitored the whereabouts of their two guests, but she had no intention of letting them roam freely through Voyager. "Do you require a chaperon?"

"Most days, Liara would prefer that I have one."

"Then my presence should please her."

At that moment they reached Cargo Bay One, hesitating briefly to let the doors open, then stepping through the threshold and heading in the direction of the prototype shuttle.

"You think so, huh?" A small smirk tugged at the corner of Shepard's mouth as she discretely eyed the ex-Borg. "Somehow I doubt she'd like my chaperon being dressed quite so… provocatively."

"Provocativeness is an individual's singular perception." Although part of her argued that it was illogical, Seven found that the human woman who walked next to her was rather intriguing.

"I doubt I'm the only one who finds your attire provocative."

"It is also irrelevant." Seven also found said woman to be just as equally annoying.

They stopped in front of the shuttle and Shepard's hand reached for the security keypad, but instead of keying in any codes, she tilted her head towards the blonde, giving her an undisguised, rakish once-over. "Says the woman wearing the catsuit."

Stifling an irritated sigh, Seven turned to face the Spectre, her optical implant arching suspiciously. "Catsuit?"

"Yeah, you know… catsuit… a close fitting one piece garment covering the body from neck to toe." Shepard took another appreciative look at the ex-Borg, admiring her tremendous physical presence which was an intriguing mix of muscular power and eye-catching femininity. "And it leaves very little to the imagination while doing so."

"Your definition is incorrect," Seven stated matter-of-factly. "This is a biosuit woven with lightweight graphene coated fibers which offer increased flexibility and protection while the polymers embedded with microencapsulated chemicals help support the remaining Borg technology in my body."

"In my universe, it's called a catsuit."

"Your universe is flawed."

Shepard chuckled, returning her attention back to the keypad as her fingers entered the complex security code. "I can't argue with that logic," she mused.

Then, the shuttle's outer hatch opened and they both stepped inside.

…(/\\)…  
 _  
[Mess Hall] 0800_

Janeway sipped on her cup of coffee, looking across the table at Liara who scrutinized and picked through her plate of food as though it was a new life form. She had encountered many unique individuals throughout the course of her Starfleet career, with wildly different physical traits and cultural distinctiveness, and the Asari who was trying her best to politely make it through an unappealing meal was the newest among them all.

"How do you and the Admiral know each other?" she asked.

Relief washed across the Asari's features as she placed her fork down on her plate and reached for her glass of water. "We met ten years ago on a planet called Therum. I was an archaeologist studying some ruins at a remote dig site." After taking a drink, Liara added, "She helped me against a group of mercenaries. In return, I helped her hunt down the Reapers."

"That seems a little out of the ordinary for an archaeologist."

"While traveling with Shepard, I learned that our galaxy was on the brink of being invaded by an ancient adversary, one we never knew existed. A highly advanced machine race responsible for a cycle of genocide that spanned across countless millennia. Standing with Shepard, opposing the Reapers, didn't seem so out of the ordinary at the time."

"I see your point," Janeway conceded. "She seems like a very capable individual."

Liara's hand immediately covered her mouth, barely masking her urge to laugh with a brief cough. "Oh," she said, lacing her words with a conspiratorially tone, "you have no idea."

"Has she always been so…" Janeway wavered as she struggled to find the correct, least-offensive descriptor. She was trying to gain some insight so in future meetings she would know how to handle the Spectre.

"Hot-headed?" Liara said innocently, though she was clearly amused by Janeway's obvious internal debate. "Or perhaps 'combative' is the word you are so carefully trying to avoid? Or maybe belligerent? Antagonistic?"

Janeway smiled and gently shook her head. She knew she was being teased. "Maybe I was thinking of them all," she said playfully.

Liara's blue eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the human woman sitting across the table, then a broad, genuine smile broke across her features. "Then my answer to your question is, yes, Captain, she has always been all of that. And much, much more."

"You've known her a long time."

"I have." Liara suspected the Captain was fishing about the nature of her relationship with the Spectre, so she added, "Shepard and I are, as humans say, together. But sometimes it is easier for her to categorize our relationship in Asari terms rather than human." A hint of a smile tugged at Liara's lips. "Somehow it is less daunting to her."

"And what is the Asari term?"

"We are bondmates. The closest equivalent would be to that of human marriage."

Janeway's brow furrowed, almost imperceptibly, while she took another sip of coffee and contemplated the Asari's revelation.

Noticing the human's reticence, Liara said, "You seem surprised, Captain."

"If I'm honest, I am a little surprised."

"By what? That she is with someone of another species or that she entered into a long-term, committed relationship at all?"

"The relationship," Janeway said, somewhat startled by her own candor. "Because of my career, I've never found personal relationships easy."

Being the captain of a starship, and the highest ranking Federation officer in the Delta Quadrant, didn't leave Janeway with many opportunities or options to speak with anyone about personal matters. There were no executive peers to consult with or family members to confide in. In many ways, although she was on a ship with over a hundred other individuals, she was alone. She always felt that the best way to lead was to create well-defined boundaries between her personal and professional life, but being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, where the only personal interaction was with the very crew she was leading, made it difficult to always know where those boundaries were laid. Over the years, she found that the best way to go about creating the balance was to step back from her personal needs and look at what was best for her crew. They didn't need a friend as much as they needed a leader. So now, while speaking with Liara, the part of her that she had shelved and locked away so long ago, was almost desperate to come out.

"Our relationship has never been easy," Liara said, deciding to divulge a few more personal details. "In fact, when we first met I found out I was not her type."

Janeway took another sip of coffee. "Because of you being an Asari?"

"Because I was single."

"Oh…"

"Shepard was much like you," Liara said as she attempted to explain her bondmate's personality at the beginning of their relationship. "She found it difficult to find balance in romantic relationships, so she quite purposely kept those relationships casual."

"Until she met you."

"My species is long-lived which gives us a natural inclination to be patient," Liara replied, chuckling softly at some private memory. "I knew what I wanted so I waited until the right opportunity presented itself, then I made Shepard an offer she could not refuse."

"I see that she's not the only strategist in the relationship."

"For what it is worth, she and I developed a friendship before embarking on anything more intimate."

Although it was liberating to talk candidly with the Asari, Janeway wasn't sure she liked the path their conversation had taken. "Are you suggesting that I need relationship advice?"

"I would never presume as much, Captain."

"But you think a personal relationship holds my attention."

"I have been in very same place you are standing now, that limbo of uncertainty, so the signs are easy for me to recognize."

…(/\\)…

 _[Cargo Bay One]_

While Seven was seated at the prototype shuttle's command console, studying its readout, Shepard packed a bag of personal items. Her years of military service had instilled the habit of bringing along an "essentials kit", because regardless of how well planned the mission, she knew the unexpected could happen... unexpectedly. The kit included a variety of personal items—sonic tooth brush, preferred toiletries, a data pad of her favorite novels along with a flask of eight-five year old single-malt whiskey, for when a reminder of the finer things was needed. Although Voyager could replicate most of the items, for this particular unexpected scenario, a touch of familiarity was necessary. Something that reminded her of home. She also packed a few items that Liara had requested.

"I'm curious," the Spectre said. "Has your crew ever considered finding a planet of their own? A place to settle down?"

Although her focus remained on the monitor, Seven answered the question. "Captain Janeway is committed to getting Voyager back to Earth."

"From what I've read, that could take decades, and I'm sure there are many dangers and hostilities ahead."

Spinning around in the chair, the blonde's icy blue gaze confronted the Spectre's. "We will adapt," she stated definitively.

Shepard glanced at Seven with a raised eyebrow, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth. "I bet you will."

"There seems to be a lot of hostility in your own universe, as well."

"No more so than yours, Seven. The Vidians, the Kazon, Species 8472, the Borg… should I go on?"

"I see you have studied our historical database."

"Just like you're studying the one from my ship right now."

"It seemed the most productive use of my time," Seven of Nine said in her cool, even tone. "In sickbay, you mentioned you had been at war with a sentient machine race."

"Yes." Shepard wondered where Seven was leading the conversation. "The Reapers wanted to harvest all advanced life, organic and synthetic, in my galaxy. They failed. The war ended seven years ago, but it will take many more years to recover."

"The information on how the Reaper's were defeated is deficient."

"It's not so much deficient as it is classified."

"According to your ship's database, you were directly responsible for ending their invasion."

"I was one of many who put their life on the line that day." Seeing that the blonde was dissatisfied with that answer, Shepard added, "Yes, I was there at the very end. And yes, I may have even pulled the final trigger. But without all of those other soldiers—from all races across our galaxy—I would never have made it that far and the Reapers would have continued to annihilate all sentient life in their path."

"You do not relish the role of hero then?"

Shepard was quiet for a moment before she verbalized her own statement of truth. "There was no one hero on that final day, there were thousands." After zipping up the duffel bag, Shepard sat down in the aft station chair. "What about Voyager? How did your ship end up in the Delta Quadrant?"

"Seven years ago, while Voyager was attempting to apprehend a renegade Maquis vessel, both Voyager and the Maquis were pulled into the Delta quadrant by powerful alien technology. It was a one way trip. Stranded 70,000 light-years from Earth, Captain Janeway convinced the Maquis to join her Starfleet crew and serve together during their voyage back to Federation space."

Looking dumbfounded, Shepard raked her fingers through her short red locks. "70,000 light-years," she muttered, "that is one helluva rabbit hole."

"Over the years Voyager's crew has proven to be both creative and adaptive. Through various efforts they have been able to shorten their journey back to the Alpha Quadrant by many decades."

"What about you? You don't wear their uniform, and the way you talk, it sounds like you weren't around for the beginning."

"I was not. I was assimilated by the Borg as a child and formed part of the Collective for eighteen years. Three years ago, Captain Janeway freed me."

Not for the first time Shepard's gaze came to rest on the metallic grey implant framing Seven's her left eye. She also noted a small starburst that adorned the blonde's right cheek. "I assume the cybernetics are remnants from you time with the Borg."

"The Doctor was able to remove most of the Borg implants, but my long-term assimilation means that some parts are vital to my survival and cannot be removed."

"We should start a club," Shepard said.

Hearing a tone of bitterness in the Spectre's statement, Seven asked, "Your cybernetics cannot be removed?"

"If I want to quicken the rate of my demise, sure," Shepard said, her features darkening. "Otherwise, no."

Seven had seen the Doctor's scans and knew the Spectre's cybernetic components were embedded within the human's organs, bone and flesh. Although not as easily visible as her own, the implants that existed were just as pervasive. Instead of saying anything, she returned her attention back to the console.

Shepard readjusted her position in the chair, straightening her posture. Her eyes had an unfocused look, as though caught in a memory, until she sighed heavily and shook her head.

"I did some reading last night," she said, thinking back to one of her discussions with Liara earlier in the morning. They had both spent the night reading through the unrestricted files in Voyager's database, trying to understand the universe they found themselves stranded in. "The Borg's hive-mind infrastructure sounds similar species of space-faring insects in my universe, the Rachini. Do you remember what it was like to be connected to that?"

Seven tilted her head, a slight wrinkle appearing between her brows. "I was part of a vast consciousness, billions of minds working together. A harmony of purpose and thought. No indecision, no doubts. The security and strength of a unified will." She was quiet for a moment. "Then, I was alone."

"That sounds like a difficult transition."

"I was no longer Borg and the prospect of becoming human was… unsettling." Seven's features softened slightly and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "But Captain Janeway has been very patient and made it possible for me to reclaim my humanity."

"You have a lot of respect for the captain."

"I owe her much."

…(/\\)…

 _[Mess Hall]_

Janeway took a sip of her coffee, enjoying the taste of the hot bitter liquid as it slipped past her tongue. "So not all individuals in your universe have biotic abilities, but your species does?"

"All Asari are naturally biotic to some degree," Liara said, "though not all choose to develop their abilities. Those who do pursue training usually display formidable ability."

As she considered the Asari's words, Janeway's eyes darted around the room, noting that most of the crew had given their table a wide berth. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if it was because their captain was at the table, or an unfamiliar alien, or if they were just being polite. "May I ask you a personal question?"

Although she sensed a drastic shift in topic, Liara nodded. "Of course, Captain."

"I hear Shepard call you by your first name, yet you only refer to her by her last or her title. Is there some sort of cultural significance?"

Liara settled back into her chair, taking a drink from her mug of freshly brewed hot herbal tea. "No. There is no such cultural precedent for the Asari or humans in our universe."

"Then your reluctance to call her by her first name…"

"Is a personal request and should be taken up with her," Liara replied, her expression inscrutable.

"Yes. Of course," Janeway said, sounding chagrined. "I apologize if I have offended."

"There is no need to apologize. You are not the first to ask, nor do I believe that you will be the last."

Janeway frowned, but then nodded, acknowledging that she understood what she had just been told. "Your bondmate is a complicated individual."

Liara remained quiet for moment, organizing her thoughts while the forefinger of her right hand lazily traced the rim of her mug. Finally, she looked up and met the captain's penetrating gaze. "In war, she is ruthless, but she also has the capacity for great compassion."

"Except when it comes to Batarians," Janeway commented dryly.

Liara tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "Don't think too badly of Shepard. She has more reasons than most to hate Batarians."

"Such as?"

"Well," Liara began, "she…"

The Asari hesitated midsentence, closing her eyes, as though debating whether or not to tell the story. Then, she took a deep grounding breath and when her eyes opened, Janeway noticed a steely determination lingering within their dark blue depths.

"When Shepard was a young child, Batarians raided the colony where she and her family lived." A pained look flashed across the Asari's face before she continued. "These weren't pirates or scavengers, Captain, these were slavers. And they weren't known for doing things, as you humans say, quick or pretty. The colonists put up a fight, but in the end, of her family, only she survived."

"I see," Janeway said, not unkindly. This new knowledge did allow for some insight into the Spectre's behavior, but not enough to satisfy Janeway's curiosity.

As though reading her thoughts, Liara said, "You may or may not want more personal details, Captain, but if you do..."

"Then I will have to ask the Admiral directly."

"Yes, Captain."

Janeway blinked, then took another drink from her cup, draining its contents. She had a feeling it was going to be another long day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**  
I want to thank those who read, Alerted, Fav'd and/or Reviewed this tale! Your interest in this story and the feedback you provide are very much appreciated. Thank you!

And, as always, a big round of applause goes out to Lyaksandra, my beta-reader. Your input and sage advice are – and always have been – invaluable.

I am traveling next week, so the next update to the story will be posted after my return.

* * *

Chapter Six

 _Delta Quadrant 1745  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[VIP Quarters]_

Liara entered the room that she shared with Shepard and just as she crossed the threshold, like every time before, she gave thanks to the Goddess that they had not been thrown into the Brig. Instead they had been issued VIP quarters, and even though some of the amenities, such as the replicator, were offline for security reasons, the furnishings were quite comfortable. Not as nice as the Normandy, but that was due mostly to familiarity rather than design.

One of the perks lauded by the VIP quarters was the observation window that looked out into the vast expanse of space. Voyager was currently in a standstill above the Tarian planet, so the stars were as stationary as her lover, who stood in front of the window, her attention drawn to something beyond the celestial objects of another universe's star system. The Spectre's focus was so absolute that she did not acknowledge Liara's entrance, and since her presence had gone unnoticed, the Asari took the opportunity to silently contemplate the woman as she walked across the room.

The human wore a comfortable pair of grey cotton sweatpants and a short-sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. She wasn't wearing shoes, but her feet were adorned with white crew-cut socks. Apparently, Liara thought, she had taken Captain Janeway's offer seriously and had some spare clothing replicated.

"You're brooding," Liara said, her voice breaking the silence.

The Spectre glanced over her shoulder, an expression of mild surprise on her face as she greeted the new arrival. "You think you know me so well."

"Because I do." Liara came to a halt next to her lover whose gaze had returned to the fathomless unknown, and noting the redhead's introspective mood, was careful not to encroach on her personal space.

"That is true." A soft smile formed at the corner of Shepard's lips, yet her eyes still held a far-off look, seemingly hypnotized by the vastness beyond the window.

Raising an eyebrow, Liara questioned, "Are you going to tell me what is on your mind or would you prefer not to talk about it?"

"I thought it would be obvious. Discovering there are multiple universes. Being stuck in one of those different universes… _with_ a colony of Batarians. Wondering how we're going to get home." Shepard regarded the Asari out of the periphery of her eye, quirking her lips in half-hearted smile. "And on a lighter note, the dynamic between Seven and Captain Janeway."

"I understand why most of that would be weighing on your mind, but I must admit that the last one surprises me. Why are you so interested in their relationship?"

"I'm not, but have you seen the way Seven looks at Janeway?"

"Actually, I was more interested in the way the ship's captain looks at her Astrometrics officer when she thinks no one is watching."

With her gaze still focused on some fixed point in space, Shepard leaned towards the Asari, playfully bumping their shoulders together. "It reminds me of you when you first joined the Normandy. All that time you spent researching me."

"May I remind you that _you_ were the one who kept seeking me out to talk?"

"You were the first one who admitted attraction."

"Oh?" Liara said as her eyebrow rose accusingly. "When was that? Before or after you kissed me?"

Shepard grinned. "Oh yeah… I did surprise you with that."

"Only momentarily."

"True. Then you surprised me." Shepard's right hand rubbed the back of her head. "I still have the bump where my head hit the bulkhead."

"You didn't complain."

"How could I? My lips were otherwise engaged."

Liara shook her head, chuckling softly at the fond memory. Innocence such as that seemed like a lifetime ago, but it still held sway within her heart.

"Are you trying to interfere with their relationship?" she asked, returning to the previous subject of Seven and Janeway.

"What? No, of course not." Shepard stepped in front of the Asari, tenderly caressing the blue hued cheek with the pad of her thumb. Even after ten years she was still completely mesmerized by the adorable freckles haphazardly patterned across her lover's face. "But it's so much fun to tease them. Neither one knows what to do with it. Janeway got so red in the face in sickbay, I thought she was going to blow me out an airlock."

"That is not the best way to stay in the Captain's good graces. We still need their help to get home."

"True." The redhead shrugged her shoulders. "But I've never been very diplomatic."

"Tell me about it," Liara deadpanned.

Shepard flashed a look of mock disdain, then captured the Asari's waist in both hands, pulling their bodies together. "I do find their attraction to each other interesting in one way though."

"Oh?" Liara said, resting her hands on her lover's shoulders. "And in what way would that be, Spectre?"

Smiling, Shepard replied, "It seems that in any universe, ship captains and scientific minds go well together."

Returning the smile, Liara closed the distance between them even further by letting her hands slip down and wrapping her arms around the redhead's torso. "Yes, they do," she murmured. Then, she placed a soft lingering kiss on her lover's lips.

When the kiss ended, Liara rested her head on the Spectre's shoulder and released a whispered sigh. As the human's arms tightened their firm, but gentle embrace, she closed her eyes, breathing in the peaceful moment. "If I had to be stranded in another universe, I am glad it was with you."

Shepard placed a tender kiss on Liara's crests. "As am I, love."

Liara remained silent, enjoying the soothing and familiar comfort of her lover's body and the security those sensations generated. At least until her curiosity prompted a question. "Did you get into any trouble this afternoon?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," Shepard replied, chuckling. "After getting our stuff and the data from the shuttle, Seven gave me a tour of the ship. It's really quite impressive, especially their holo technology which is decades beyond anything we have."

Sensing there was more to the story, Liara prodded, "And…"

"And… it turns out a sonic shower will _not_ clean monster goo from hair." Shepard, who had wanted to see if this universe had an equivalent to a thresher maw- an enormous, worm-like, subterranean carnivore- asked Seven to show her some of the more impressive beasts in their holodeck database. "Even holo monster goo. Old school cleaning methods were required."

"Old school?"

"Soap and water."

"Even in another universe you manage to do the impossible," Liara teased.

Shepard smiled, contented amusement glimmering in her eyes. She was amazed at the calming influence Liara's presence had upon her, as though all of her troubles and fears dissolved in the light her lover's affection. The unease tied to being stranded in another universe no longer felt overwhelming. "How was your time with the Captain?"

"Interesting," Liara said, nuzzling into the crook of the redhead's neck, noting the clean, fresh fragrance of soap and a light floral shampoo. "She has questions for you."

Shepard snorted softly, her hand playfully patting the Asari's rear. "I'm sure she does."

"You should talk to her," Liara suggested as her lips slowly began to wander, leaving a trail of soft lingering kisses along her lover's neck.

Closing her eyes, Shepard breathed in deeply, soaking in the Asari's seductive aura. "You think?"

"Yes," Liara whispered, drinking in the warmth radiating from her lover's supple skin, savoring the salty-sweet taste of each tender caress as her lips continued their sensuous journey. Then, when she felt the rhythmic drumbeat of a pulse, she stopped and a mischievous smile spread across her lips. She knew this was a sensitive spot, a favored spot and when she gently bit down, letting her teeth sink into the delicate skin of her lover's neck, she was rewarded with the sound of a pleasurable moan.

From the warmth of Liara's breath and the delightfully carnal sensations she incited along her neck, the Spectre felt the hot spike of arousal ignite within her abdomen and blaze through her body from head to toe, like a wildfire heating every nerve along its path. Her fingertips dug into the Asari's hips, pressing their pelvises together, rocking slowly, as each movement, subtle or rough, spiked the lustful turmoil burning between them.

Liara's right hand reached towards her lover's face, fingertips tracing a path along her cheek then snaking to the back of her head, firmly grasping the short, red locks still damp from an earlier shower. Suddenly, she was all too aware of her lover's proximity. The feel of strong hands nestled on her hips, of toned thighs discreetly applying intoxicating pressure to sensitive areas, and of pliant flesh pressed against her own, all of which threatened to drown her in sultry eroticism.

The three weeks spent apart had only heightened their smoldering desire, like embers of an everlasting inferno waiting for a gust of air to bring them back to life.

With each passing second their breathing became heavier, more ragged, as though all of the oxygen in the room had suddenly disappeared, and when fiery green eyes met blue, time itself seemed to stop. While the world around them unraveled, they held fast, rooted to each other through a quiet intensity born of mutual longing and untold need.

As their bodies moved in a slow, lust driven rhythm, erotic and primal, Shepard felt her lover's fingers digging into her scalp, possessively pulling their foreheads together. Awash in arousal, barely able to breathe, she let out another low throaty moan. Then, in an almost desperate move, her mouth descended, placing a fierce, uncompromising kiss upon the Asari's lips.

The gust of air had been felt, the inferno ignited.

Clothing fell indiscriminately to the floor as they maneuvered their way across the room, stumbling into the occasional piece of furniture, until they fell, naked and entangled, onto the bed.

"I think," Shepard whispered mid-kiss, her lips brushing upon Liara's in a feather-like caress, "I'll talk to the Captain later."

Liara's fingers greedily tightened their grip in the Spectre's hair, and before bringing their lips back together, she murmured, "Good plan."

...(/\\)...

 _Delta Quadrant 2130  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[Captain's Quarters]_

Kathryn Janeway stood in her quarters, holding onto a short glass of amber liquid and looking through the observation window, watching the stars flicker amid the black canvass of space. She sighed audibly as her mind drifted over the events of the last two days, and how quickly a simple act of charity dissolved into utter chaos. The only certainty that currently existed was that neither she nor her Senior Staff knew how to get their guests home. Even though the brightest minds on her ship were working on the issue, for the moment, a solution seemed beyond them.

Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a sip and noted how the contents burned a path down her throat to land hotly in her stomach. The familiar sensation wasn't at all unpleasant. In fact, it was comforting. She could always count on it. In contrast, with everything she and her crew had been through over the last seven years, she found herself wondering what surprise the universe had in store for them next.

Then, as if on cue, the door chime sounded out, shattering her contemplative mood.

Without turning around she said, "Enter."

The door swooshed open and Admiral Shepard stepped into the room. Janeway caught sight of her image in the window's reflection and turned to face her. "Shepard."

Noticing the drink in the other woman's hand, Shepard said, "Captain, I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Please, in this room, call me Kathryn." Before the Spectre could respond, Janeway raised her free hand, palm out, halting any pithy banter. "And before you ask, no, I am not flirting with you." Liara had given her fair warning about the Admiral's inclination to playfully provoke, both innocently and intentionally.

Shepard grinned at the captain's forthrightness. "Kathryn it is then."

Janeway raised her glass of amber liquid. "May I offer you a drink?"

"You sure you're not flirting with me?" the Spectre teased.

"If I was, you wouldn't have to ask the question," Janeway parried, an impish twinkle in her eyes. "Besides, from what I've seen, Dr. T'Soni corners the market on your interest."

Shepard tipped her head in acknowledgement of the statement. "A drink sounds lovely. If you're indulging in a single malt whiskey, I'll join you." With a wolfish grin curling on her lips, she added, "If you're not, I'll have one anyway."

Janeway flashed her own playful smirk, then made her way toward the replicator. "Please, have a seat."

The Spectre walked over to the couch which lined the outer wall and sat down. Quietly, she took in the Captain's quarters. Other than few knickknacks openly displayed in shelves on the interior wall or on the coffee table in front of her, the room was clear of any clutter. It was clean, organized with just a touch of familiar comforts. A thick, colorful throw blanket folded across the back of the couch, a coffee mug on the kitchen table and a datapad, or 'holo-novel', she corrected, lying on the chair adjacent to the couch.

Shepard always thought that a person's living space was a direct reflection of their personality and felt Janeway's quarters added credence to her theory. Even having only met few days prior, she knew the woman was warm and social, highly intelligent, an innovative problem-solver but with the capacity to be impulsive and unpredictable. The petite woman was a force to be reckoned with and whether an adversary or ally, she was worthy of respect.

Janeway handed the Spectre her drink before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. "What can I do for you?"

"Liara suggested it might be beneficial for us to talk. In private. She may also have mentioned that you had a particular interest in my given name." The Spectre relaxed into the teal blue furniture, stretching her left arm along its back. "I appreciate that you didn't comb through our database to find it."

"Privacy is a luxury I both covet and value."

"I can appreciate that, as well."

Shepard's eyes landed on an ancient nautical compass displayed at the center of the coffee table, the brass, gimbaled compass was set in a high polish, brass-inlaid solid mahogany box. "This is beautiful," she said, leaning forward to get a closer look. "How old is it?"

"About six hundred years. My grandfather gave it to me when I was a child."

Looking impressed, Shepard said, "It seems you have a long-standing history with exploration, Captain."

"If only it could have pointed me in the right direction seven years ago."

"A good friend once told me that to be a true explorer is to carry on your exploration even if it takes you to a place you hadn't particularly planned to go."

"My grandfather would have agreed." Janeway flashed a rueful smile. "But I don't think he had the Delta Quadrant in mind."

The Spectre took a long drink from her glass, the slight burning sensation of the liquid as it traveled down her throat helped bring her thoughts to focus. She had never been good at small-talk, and since she was only going to have this conversation once, she decided to get on with it. "My first name is Jane, but as you have already figured out, nobody uses it."

Now that the topic was on the table, Janeway's curiosity was sparked. "Not even Liara?" she asked.

"Every now and again." A soft smile formed at the corner of Shepard's mouth, but her turbulent green eyes held a far-off look. "Usually when she's decidedly upset with me."

"You don't like it?"

"On the contrary," the Spectre said, "I revere it. I was named after my mother." Her voice was faint, like an afterthought, as though her mind was somewhere other than on the conversation. "Jane was her middle name."

Janeway recalled the conversation with Liara earlier in the day, but wanted to hear what the Spectre had to say regarding her background. "Something happened to her?"

Silently, Shepard nodded then looked up, her intense gaze meeting Janeway's. "I was a colony kid, born into a farming family on a planet called Mindoir. I hated farming. Hated the idea of being stuck on the colony for my whole life, so every chance I got I snuck off into fields to dream of the day I'd be able to leave."

Sensing the Spectre had a story to tell, the older woman said nothing. Instead, she settled back into the cushion and listened.

"One day," Shepard began, her voice raw and strangely distant, "I was out in the fields doing god knows what and I saw odd looking ships streak across the sky. There were no warning sirens, but I knew something was wrong. That something bad was about to happen. By the time I returned to the colony, it was already too late. Batarian slavers had arrived making demands and the colonists retaliated. They didn't stand a chance. The Batarians slaughtered everyone in sight. Within minutes my home was in ruins. My family murdered."

Janeway remained silent, unsure of what to say and hesitant to interrupt the Spectre who was recounting an awful event from her past.

Noticing the older woman's pained expression, Shepard clenched her teeth and the muscles along her jaw flexed visibly. "A passing Alliance patrol noticed the Batarian ships circling the planet and investigated. They were able to save the remaining colonists in the outlying settlements."

When it involved her personal history, she was uncomfortable with other's compassion which, more often than not, took the form of pity. It made her feel weak.

"What happened to you?" Janeway asked.

"I went to live with my Aunt Hannah, my father's sister. She was an officer in the Alliance, so I spent a lot of time on space stations and ships as she transferred from one posting to another. She was tough, but kind… and a little too optimistic when it came to me."

"In what way?"

"The day of my eighteenth birthday, with her blessing, I enlisted with the Alliance navy. I think she hoped military life would give me purpose. Teach me discipline. Help me put the past to rest."

"And did it?"

"It did," Shepard said, sighing softly, "or so I thought. Some things never rest though."

Instead of continuing immediately, the Spectre took a stiff drink from her glass, her throat moving as she swallowed. Finally, when she spoke, her voice was low and raspy. "I had just finished my first four-year tour and was enjoying shore leave on a planet called Elysium when Batarian pirates launched a surprise attack on the colony. Some other Alliance soldiers and I rallied a resistance and managed to fight off the Batarian's ground force long enough for reinforcements to arrive."

"That was the Skyllian Blitz, right? I read that it was you who single-handedly rallied the resistance."

"So you did read up on me."

"No more than you," Janeway countered, a faint smile playing across her lips. "I'm notified when you access my ship's files."

She knew the woman sitting across from her would have suspected such a security protocol and undoubtedly viewed researching her history as a challenge.

"Touché, Captain."

"If it makes any difference, in lieu of the luxury of personal privacy, I only looked up your military service file."

As though acknowledging the comment, Shepard nodded her head slightly. "But what those files don't tell you is the fact that it was during the Blitz that I realized I'd only been fooling myself. That nothing had been put to rest. I still hated Batarians for what they had done. For murdering my family. For destroying my life. So when they invaded Elysium, I swore they wouldn't have the opportunity to repeat the events on Mindor. I gathered every able bodied man and woman, willing or unwilling, and forced them to fight back."

"You saved many lives."

"Perhaps. But two years later, in retaliation for Elysium, the Alliance launched a major offensive against the moon of Torfan. The objective was to destroy the criminal bases located there, most of which were populated by Batarians. I was part of that operation and led my own unit. We pursued Batarians to every corner of that moon and wiped them out. Without pity. Without remorse. Just as they had done to so many colonies before."

Shepard turned her gaze back toward the Starfleet captain. "I was fifteen when I saw my mother, an unarmed civilian, someone who posed no possible threat, gunned down by a Batarian for no other reason than his amusement." Her voice thick with emotion, she confessed, "More than twenty years have passed and I still wake up begging for her to run."

Unsure of what to say and knowing that any consoling words or platitudes would seem hollow, Janeway offered the only sympathy at her disposal. She held the other woman's gaze, unflinching and without judgment. A thick, weighty silence filled the room, but instead of trying to press the conversation, she took a small sip from her glass.

Eventually, green eyes, brewing in turmoil, fell heavily to the floor. Then, with a fortitude cultivated over the years, Shepard forced her inconsolable thoughts to the wayside, methodically breathing through the bitterness. When her gaze finally shifted back to Janeway's, it was dark as the furthest reaches of space, and just as cold.

"So you see, Kathryn," she said, smiling without humor, "when it comes to Batarians, I am not, nor will I ever be, the forgiving type."

The Spectre looked at the amber liquid in her hand for a moment, then brought the glass to her lips, draining it in one swallow.

Janeway tilted her head in acknowledgement. She had no illusions that any words of sympathy she might offer would be of much consolation, but she appreciated the woman's personal disclosure and the insight it afforded. "Is that why you came here, so I might be more understanding of your actions in Cargo Bay One?"

"That's why Liara suggested I come here," Shepard said, her expression hard and unreadable. "I just came for the drink."

Janeway took another sip of the strong whiskey and waited for its warmth to spread through her stomach. She may not agree with or condone Shepard's choices, but she knew she couldn't stand in judgment of her. In fact, despite their differing values, she had come to respect the younger woman enough to offer up a bit of her own personal history. "I grew up in a farming community in Indiana. My father was a Starfleet Officer, but my mother was a devout traditionalist. No replicators. No transporters. Every meal was home cooked."

Appreciating the shift in topic, Shepard smiled and placed her empty glass on the coffee table. "So you cook?" she asked.

Janeway chuckled softly. "I didn't say that."

"But you have replicators."

"Which are surprisingly complicated pieces of technology."

"They don't seem that complicated."

"Well, as I said, you'd be surprised," Janeway said as she rose from the couch, grabbing the empty glass from the coffee table and walking to the kitchen suite. "Once, a long time ago, I called this replicator a glorified toaster." She motioned with her hand pointing to the device that had just materialized another glass of whiskey. "It never forgave me."

"If I hadn't had access to field rations and a mess hall, I wouldn't have survived this long," Shepard said. "I think I could burn water."

Janeway made her way back to the couch, handing the Spectre the full glass of amber liquid before sitting back down on the couch. "I think I have," she mused.

"It's strange to think that a few days ago, Liara and I were in our own pocket of the universe going about our day… then a…" Shepard frowned. "How did you call it? ... A transporter accident? ... brought us here."

A barely perceptible smile tugged at Janeway's lips as she took a sip from her glass. "Well, at least you didn't swap bodies."

"Huh?" Shepard grunted.

"You'd be surprised how often that has happened."

Shepard looked at Janeway, an expression of disbelief and confusion on her face. "Seriously?"

"Almost as often as temporal disturbances."

"Temporal disturbances? Like time travel?" Shepard hoped she'd managed to contain some of her surprise.

"You sound surprised..."

Evidently she hadn't.

"You mentioned it in sickbay, but I thought you were joking."

"I wish. Starfleet has a branch devoted to it," Janeway said coolly. "I hate temporal mechanics. The past is the future, the future is the past… It gives me a headache."

"Next you'll be telling me your holodecks aren't safe."

"As long as the safety protocols are online, you shouldn't have a problem."

Shepard cleared her throat, thinking back to her holodeck time with Seven. "Do they go offline a lot?"

"Over the years? More than I'd like to admit."

"If I receive another holodeck invite, I may have to decline."

The older woman fixed the Spectre with an inquisitive stare. "You can't tell me that in your universe you've never encountered a technological hiccup."

"Hiccup?" Shepard said, incredulously. "You call getting transported to a different universe a hiccup?"

Janeway answered the question with a sly grin. "So you have no stories of technology going horribly wrong?"

"Well," Shepard said, running her fingers through her short cropped hair, "Reapers aside, there _was_ this one time when my ship was hijacked by my clone."

Janeway blinked. "That sounds like a story."

"The best part is… a tooth brush saved the day…"

…(/\\)…

 _Delta Quadrant 2245  
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship  
[VIP Quarters]_

After washing up, Shepard entered the dark bedroom, shed her comfy clothes and crawled under the covers of the large bed. It didn't take long for her to navigate across the silken sheets and find a comfortable position nestled up against Liara, who was lying on her right side.

"I'm awake," the sleepy Asari murmured, as she slid backward, welcoming the warmth that radiated from her lover's body.

Shepard snuggled in as close as possible, draping her left arm around Liara's waist, then placed a tender kiss on her blue hued shoulder. "Sorry, love."

Capturing the arm wrapped around her, Liara pulled it up to her chest, effectively tightening the comforting embrace. "S'okay," she sighed drowsily. "How did it go with the Captain?"

"We laughed, we drank, we cried…"

Liara snorted softly.

"You don't believe me," the Spectre said, her tone playfully indignant.

"You? Socialize?"

"We're in an alternate universe, it could have happened."

"It is far more plausible that you learned to sing and dance," Liara teased as she twisted in her lover's embrace, shifting both of them so she was lying fully astride Shepard, effectively pinning the human on her back. Then, with an impish smile on her lips, and before any playful retaliation could take place, Liara shifted her position so her chin rested atop the redhead's chest. "Perhaps, Spectre, you should try again."

"Would you believe we bonded over our mutual inability to cook?"

Although the darkness of the room kept most facial expressions hidden, Liara could tell the Spectre was smirking. "That sounds more likely, but it still doesn't answer my question."

"You are tenacious."

"A quality you appreciated mere hours ago."

Chuckling softly, Shepard wrapped her arms around the Asari and gave an affectionate squeeze. "The Captain and I had a good talk. And I think we came to a mutual understanding, or at least a better understanding, of each other."

Liara heard a reticence in her lover's voice. "What did you learn?"

"In terms of the Captain, I believe bringing us here was an accident and I believe her offer to get us back home is sincere."

"But…"

"But I also believe that she is loyal to her crew, that she is dedicated to getting them home and that the Batarians have exactly what she needs to keep them on their journey."

"So you don't trust her…"

Shepard sighed heavily. "With what's at stake, I can't afford to."


End file.
